


Blue Scales

by chaya



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Crack Treated Seriously, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 49,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3347195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ridiculous AU. Bucky and merSteve met as kids in Brooklyn. When Bucky goes off to war, Steve gets the help of Merskine to get some human legs and extra muscle to go save his POW boyfriend. Together they form the Howling Commandos and fight the good fight before going down in a plane together and getting frozen for decades. When they wake up, canon is more or less restored, minus the part where Bucky was never kidnapped a second time and Steve shapeshifts back and forth from scaley to fleshy. (All very minor details.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2014 - 1934 - 2014

**Author's Note:**

> This is all ridiculous and I apologize in advance. You can see the random little tidbits of merSteve canon [in the tag on Tumblr](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/tagged/mersteve/chrono).
> 
> Some bits of this are reposted from Mixed Bag, which is somewhat messy of me. I apologize. This weird AU got so big I felt the need to gather it all up in one spot.
> 
> Bonuses: Bluandorange on Tumblr has [made excellent arts](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/90276670010/excuse-me-while-i-exploit-my-excessive-amount-of) which [have become my headcanon](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/92410914430/little-mcu-interspecies-boyfriends) for [this verse](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/96248196545).
> 
>  
> 
> Also: This 'verse is written completely out of sequence. Be warned. (Excessive asterisk use indicates a huge shift forward or backward.)

Sam peers around Bucky and Steve's new floor of the Tower, nodding and crossing his arms.

"Let me guess," he says slowly. "You nodded and told Pepper it all looked great."

"Yes," Bucky says.

"And you're old-ass men, one of whom spent half his life in the Atlantic, so you have no idea what most of this stuff is."

" _Yes_ ," Bucky says.

Steve points accusingly at the radiator-like thing by the indoor pool. "That?"

"That heats towels." Sam glares at Bucky's confounded expression. " _So they'll be warm when you put 'em on._ Jeez."

"Okay, but  _that?_ " Bucky points at the controls next to the stairs that lead into the pool.

Sam squints. "The knobs look like the ones for hot-tub jets. Not jets like  _planes_ , like...it pumps water from the... like hot springs. It moves the water."

Steve makes an intrigued sound and pulls off his shirt. Sam, who is beyond used to this, turns his back and waits for Bucky to move into his line of vision to continue the conversation while Steve gets undressed. Bucky makes a vaguely apologetic face which Sam immediately waves away.

"I've actually figured out the bathroom," Bucky continues, "but there's a rock...? Does Tony think Steve washes with a rock?"

"Pumice. Human thing. Exfoliates." Sam mimes rubbing something over his arms and shoulders. "Don't have to use it."

Bucky nods. Behind Sam is a quiet splash indicating Steve's investigating the pool. "Do rich people usually have pools in their bedrooms or is that just an us thing?"

"Pretty much just a you thing," Sam confirms.

**

**

"One day," Bucky says, arms a little tighter around Steve's shoulders now, "I'll be grown up. And I'll have my own little apartment. It'll be small, but. But you can live there in the winter."

"In an apartment?" Steve mumbles against his shoulder, shivering a little.

"In the tub," Bucky clarifies. "We'll heat water all the time and pour it in for you. It'll be like summer. We can listen to the radio together and you can tell me my cooking stinks."

Steve sighs and shifts closer, pushing Bucky's back further against the column of the pier. Above them, there's not much foot traffic. It's cold and windy and it's only supposed to get colder.

"You  _have_  to go," Bucky intones, hating this. "There's no sense in getting frostbite just 'cause you wanna stay here."

"I  _like_  it here," Steve says stubbornly. "My people are built for cold. I'll be fine."

"You  _won't_  and you  _know_  it. Go south. Come back in March. I'll have a new necklace for you by then."

Steve swallows and nuzzles in closer. "What's a bathtub like?"

Bucky thinks about it. "Smooth. Like the inside of a shell. White, with pipes to bring in water and take it out again when you want."

"And I'll fit?"

"I'll put a bucket on the floor for your tail."

**

**

"I believe I was also promised a bucket," Steve singsongs, and Bucky doesn't catch Sam's confused look; he's too busy rolling his eyes and smirking, for some reason.


	2. 1935 - 1943

"No," Steve says, and his frail shoulders tuck in a bit in the way that means he feels unsure, maybe a bit powerless. Bucky looks away and starts buttoning himself up.

"It’s okay, alright? We don’t have to-"

"It’s like my ears, but different."

Bucky stops and looks over.

"It’s like," Steve takes in a deep breath, tail swishing agitatedly at the waves lapping up on the shore. "You like stroking the fins along my ears. You really like it, right?"

"Yeah," Bucky says slowly.

"Because it makes  _me_  feel really good. I get all relaxed and happy and sleepy and _you_ don’t get any of that, but, but you’re happy because you make me happy, right?”

"But this isn’t just touching, this is  _different_ , it’s.” Bucky gestures emphatically. “I feel bad if you’re just giving me stuff I can’t give back.”

"I can’t stroke along  _your_  ears and make you fall asleep in my lap, but that’s never been a problem.” His expression is stubborn. “It’s okay that I don’t… feel that way. I like touching you. I like that you like it when I do.”

Bucky sighs. “Is there… will you ever want to? I mean, merfolk, is there a season when they…”

"Not like that."

"Why?"

He swallows. “It’s different, how we do it. It’s not like how you do it.”

"So you’ll want it, but you’ll want it different." Bucky feels something like hope swell up.

"There’s no touching, it’s just about making… it’s about  _procreating_.”

Bucky has to look away again. The blanket he brought is caked with sand on one side and when he draws it up around him, he’s pretty sure he looks like a sand castle with a mopey head on top.

"Please don’t be sad."

"With us, if one wants it and the other doesn’t, doing it anyway is like… it’s mean. It’s selfish."

"Buck, you’re not selfish. If I didn’t want to touch you it’d be different."

A few moments pass, and finally some warm fingers begin nudging under the hem of the blanket, stroking along Bucky’s calf. Bucky tenses his body and the fingers retreat.

**

**

"The thing I do for you," Steve pants, clearly putting in some effort to pin Bucky to the tree without pushing him through it. "Can. Can you do it for me?"

Bucky’s mind races to figure out what’s going on. “Stevie, what’re-“

"Touching," Steve grits out, forehead tipped against Bucky’s now. He feels hot. His breathing is strange. "This new body, I think, I think when it’s human, it wants -  _I_  want -“

This can’t be real. “You wanna make time!?”

Steve looks embarrassed and confused all at once. “I. I think?”

Bucky stares at him a moment, then back at the campfire he was dragged away from, then back to Steve. It’s dark, but there’s enough starlight that Bucky can see the dilation of his pupils, the flush of his mouth.

"I think you do," he murmurs, almost to himself.

"So can you," Steve bites his lip and then backs up a little, unsure. "Do you, I mean, do you  _want_ ,”

"Listen. Stevie." Bucky reaches out to yank Steve back in by the front of his uniform. "I’m gonna show you every damn thing I know. You say you don’t like something, I’ll stop doin’ it. You say you wanna stop altogether, I stop."

Steve presses in with his hips. Bucky realizes what he feels and swallows. “I don’t think I’m gonna ask you to stop.”

Bucky holds back a moan and keeps his grip on Steve's shirt, other hand fumbling down to the bulge between Steve's legs. Steve makes a strangled sound and then a soft whine, and Bucky waits a second, making sure everything's alright, before giving a slow squeeze and licking stripes along any part of Steve's throat he can reach. Another squeeze, firmer, and in his mind's eye he can see the erection straining against Steve's unfamiliar clothes. Bucky's already sticking to his underwear and Steve's breathing like he's going to come.

"Even if you're an adult," Bucky whispers, voice wavering more than he expects, "if you've never done this, you'll pop really early."

"Make me -" Steve's breath hitches and he rolls his hips forward, thigh brushing against Bucky's cock and making him gasp. "Please. Please keep going."

"It's okay, doll, I'm not going anywhere." Bucky makes a determined effort to ignore his own body's demands for now, guiding Steve until he's leaning against the tree and steady enough on his feet that Bucky can get to his knees. "I promise it's going to feel good."

Steve, who comes from a world where putting genitalia near another person's mouth isn't even a concept, bites his lip and looks away. Bucky takes a breath and yanks Steve's pants open, spitting in his hand instead and stroking Steve up and down his length.

"Oh! Oh..." Steve makes a couple muffled sounds before finally reaching over his head with his fist and punching the tree. The leaves rustle warningly.

"Shh. You're okay." Bucky can barely even see what he looks like down here, with Steve's hips bucking so fast and the light as low as it is. Bucky commits it to memory anyway, eyes flicking up every so often to make sure Steve isn't waving him off or something, but Steve's anything but. He's panting louder, flush mouth hanging open and then twisting in a new gasp as he spills over Bucky's hand in one, two, three thick spurts.

Bucky swallows and sneaks one hand down to his own crotch, stroking, looking up to see if Steve still looks overwhelmed or if he's finally calmed down. He can't tell.

"...Stevie?"

"How..."

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"What's up?"

"...how long until we can do it again?"


	3. 2012

Thor’s as shocked as any of the others, but for completely different reasons.

"You were all killed  _centuries_  ago,” he breathes. “Malekith’s people, they-“

Steve holds up a hand and grimaces. “Some of us managed to cross into Midgard.” He looks about as uncomfortable as Bucky’s ever seen him. “We’ve been … quiet. Not wanting to be found.”

"Quiet’s one way to put it," Tony mutters.

"Well, if your people hadn’t gone and invented something called a  _diving bell_ , we wouldn’t have had to go further and further toward the trench to -” Steve collects himself. “We’re keeping quiet. I was given a serum to be able to change into this form. The only humans who know are dead or in this room.”

**

**

"Oh my God," Bruce mumbles in the car back to the Tower, a few schwarma crumbs still sprinkled over his loaner shirt. " _Scuba_.”

Steve, who more or less volunteered to be the person to make sure Bruce fell asleep in a guest bed and not in the entryway or the elevator, leans over to Bucky and creases his brow. “Person or thing?”

"Dunno," Bucky says, and taps Tony’s shoulder. "Scuba’s not slang for ‘I’m gonna throw up’ or anything, is it?"

"What? No." Tony navigates around another crater in the road, temporarily swinging into the empty oncoming traffic lane. "Acronym. Self-contained underwater breathing apparatus. It’s a… oh, that’s a really good idea, actually."

"Is it like a diving bell?" Steve hazards, rolling his eyes when Tony snorts.

"Same aim, better technology. I don’t think civilians started using it for fun until… the Cold War or so, which you were both even colder for… you put on a rubbery suit for warmth, some flipper shoes, goggles and a sort of oxygen tank. I think Bruce is trying to tell you, through the haze of Hulky exhaustion, that Bucky should look into getting certified so you can take him under de sea."

Bucky parses that for a moment and then looks at Steve, who looks like he’s trying not to get too excited. “How deep can you go?”

"With COTS, a couple hundred meters." A beat. "With… a store-bought rig," he clarifies.

"I  _love_  the future,” Steve hisses, just barely audible over the sound of Bruce snoring against his shoulder.

**

 _I understand better now_ , Bucky ‘says’, smiling behind the mask.  _Why you sign. And don’t talk much._

 _I knew you would._ Steve smiles.  _New subject: I love this._  He swirls around Bucky excitedly and looks up at the surface, then down to the ocean floor.  _Do you feel okay?_

Bucky takes few breaths through the device, giving himself time to get past the panic of doing this outside of the relative safety of the indoor pool.  _If something goes wrong. You can take me up? Fast?_

Steve nods, not bothered by the third time he’s heard this question, and circles his right hand around his upraised left hand repeatedly:  _Very very, very fast._ _  
_

Bucky nods back and kicks his feet, moving a little towards one of the reefs where he can see some colorful movement.  _Interesting_ , he signs, and then a question.

Steve agrees and swirls over to it, allowing Bucky a moment to just watch the way he moves when he’s completely underwater. It’s different from all the glimpses he got at the shore back home - his body was  _made_  for this, even moreso now that he’s got more muscle behind every movement of his tail and arms.  _New for me also_ , Steve comments, grinning as the fish try to figure out what to make of him. A rather brave Smallmouth Grunt is examining Steve’s fins, darting this way and that and then in again.

 _I understand why Technology-Human Son said swim_ _here, not at home_ , Bucky says.  _Clearer water. Safer._

 _Technology-Human Son ridiculous but smart. Like his father._  Steve can move so precisely under the water, making Bucky feel like a bit of a klutz as he kicks closer but makes sure not to run into the reef. A school of something blue and too fast to identify flees a little enclave. Steve signs something Bucky misses.

_Repeat?_

_Said: Sad we can’t eat fish here._  Steve’s not even past the sign for ‘human rules’ before Bucky’s laughing behind his mask.

**

**

Steve has been looking over the takeout menus with a pretty steady expression, but once he picks up the green one his eyebrows knit together. Pepper leans over his shoulder and 'ah's.

"Sushi is rice and raw fish," she explains, but he shakes his head.

"Bucky told me about it. They only make it in Japan," Steve says, and then backs up and reviews what he just said. "Is it different now? Do they make it here too?"

"Maybe there's more Japs in America now," Bucky says thoughtfully, and notices Pepper's flinch. "...or not?"

"Japanese people," she says delicately. "The old term for them is pretty much just used as a slur now."

Bucky blinks slowly, exchanges a glance with Steve, then takes a deep breath. "Japanese people," he repeats, correcting himself. "Well, uh, good thing we caught that now."

"I appreciate that there might be more words we need to learn and unlearn, but, um," Steve points to a section of the menu and leans toward Pepper. "Can we, um. Can we please." His crossed ankles are jiggling hopefully. "Maybe we can discuss it over dinner?"

**

They do.

**

**

"Please," Tony says, gesturing to Rhodey.

"Why?" Bucky asks.

" _Please_ ," Tony repeats.

Steve sighs.

"I willllll," Tony promises, clearly not done thinking of his promise yet and buying a few seconds with an upheld finger, "...build Bucky a specialized Iron Man suit. For deep-sea purposes."

"It's very-"

"I will call it the Aqua Man suit. It will leave that scuba nonsense in the dust. You two can visit the Mariana Trench together."

"I think you'd need to make  _two_ suits for that," Rhodey murmurs, and then frowns as Steve and Bucky lean in conspiratorially and gesture to one another in something that looks very much like some sort of secret twin language.

"Our agreement hinges upon Rhodey giving his word that he won't tell anyone," Steve declares.

"Is whatever it is ethically or legally questionable?" When Steve shakes his head, Rhodey shrugs. "I'm in."

"Okay." Steve tilts his head to the side until his neck cracks audibly, and gestures for them to follow him to the elevator.

Pepper, who had been sitting on the couch and decidedly not getting involved, gets up and trails behind them. This will be too good to miss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several people have expressed concern for scuba!Bucky. Never fear, they were in very shallow water and Steve taking him up quickly would have been fine. :D


	4. 1943

Steve has a  _lot_  of concerns - that he won’t be able to track down the 107th, that he’s missing key human qualities that someone will notice… actually, that’s the biggest worry. He knows that human men have body hair and facial hair on their cheeks and chin and throat as a secondary sex characteristic, but his hair never grows in. Not on his face, or his arms, or his chest, or his bizarre legs - he’s not sure if that can pass as normal, and finds himself staring at other men’s forearms and chins to see if there are smooth-skinned humans. He only ever got really close to Bucky, and Bucky got a light dusting of fur on his skin in various places by the time he was 14 or so. The men don’t seem to like being looked at closely, so he has to stop.

But nobody notices his strangeness. They stare at him anyway, though, because Erskine made him so _tall_ , because he’s much broader than nearly all of them, and to be fair, he’s asking a lot of questions.

Steve starts worrying he’s missing social cues. At first he thinks they can’t be flirting because they don’t offer him anything, no small trinkets, no invitations to comb their hair, but he learns he’s sorely mistaken when a village girl who said she needed help carrying something upstairs pulls him into her bedroom instead, tugs him onto the mattress, and he has to scramble back onto his awkward new legs and apologize and run.

He stays with an American regiment just outside the Italian border, and makes friends with some of the enlisted. They like that he’s never heard any of their dirty jokes before, that he’s a little naive but laughs once the punchlines are explained to him. When they filter out one by one, and the last one offers to share his tent, Steve misunderstands, says yes, gets pinned down and kissed within an inch of his life before he can squirm back and utter a pathetic “No, please”. The guy jumps off like he’s been burned, spitting apologies, and Steve readjusts his giant human-style shirt explaining that he liked it but there’s someone else. The human seems to understand, lets him stay in the tent, apologizes some more. Steve’s sad to leave him the next day, but he’s excited too. He’s just a short journey from his destination now. Bucky Barnes. Italy. He’s close. He’ll be so surprised to see him.

**

Bucky’s had dreams about waking up against warm flesh and cool scales, but when it happens, he kind of doesn’t know what to make of it.

"Weren’t you-" Bucky sits up, pulling the mess of blankets off the two medcots that have been pushed together. Steve, this huge new Steve with broad shoulders and the jaw and the same huge blue eyes, sits up, pulling his arm away. His tail unwraps from Bucky’s legs.

"I was human-shaped," Steve confirms quickly, because it’s clear Bucky’s grip on reality is still a little tenuous. "When I got you out. When we walked back."

Bucky stares at Steve’s body. He’s still wearing a singlet, but his trousers are cast aside, the stolen helmet and shield propped against the cot. His tail is… thicker, now, the scales less cloudy and the teals and blues shining in the dim light. Bucky feels vaguely dizzy.

"It’s surreal," he admits after some time.

Steve looks down. “I know.” He takes a deep breath, quirking his head in the gesture Bucky recognizes as are-you-mad-at-me. “Erskine made it so I could change back and forth, but… I’m always… big, now. Like this.” He gestures to himself with the hand not propping him up.

Bucky concentrates on getting his body language right, leaning in a little bit and tucking his chin into his shoulder. “I’ll get used to it,” he murmurs. “But not before I get some more rest.”

"Does that mean I can curl up around you again?" Steve’s smile is tiny and hopeful.

**

** 

"Well," Morita says, leaning forward just enough that the reporter leans back unconsciously, "I think it’s a little more likely that the army lost some paperwork, don’t you think?"

"But there’s no-"

"I mean, I guess we all could have hallucinated Steve being part of the 107th,” Dum-Dum adds mildly, looking over to Jones and nodding solemnly with him. “But a couple pencil-pushers losing a file or two on a soldier? Call me nuts, but that seems a lot more probable.”

"But you also," and the reporter swallows here, left eye fighting off a nervous twitch, "claim that the Krauts were weaponizing Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers… with some kind of magical strength and agility."

"We don’t have to ‘claim’ anything," Morita says evenly. "They’re on the other side of the camp right now lifting a tank up so the engineer can fix the tread. Wanna come see?"

**

A woman named Carter, who turns out to be absolutely invaluable, helps them fake some documents to back Steve’s identity up. Born and raised in Brooklyn. Not terribly far from the truth.

When she asks him for his birthday and he looks at her blankly, Bucky grins and tells her to put July 4th.

**

Dernier holds up the glass of booze, expression triumphant in the dim light of the long-empty bar. As he delivers the toast, Jones translates.

"To our mighty savior, the big…. I can’t say that!" Jones rolls his eyes as Dernier says something insistently, if somewhat slurred. "Okay. To the big… man-loving fish who… saved all our asses.” Jones flashes Bucky an apologetic look as Steve throws his head back and laughs. Jacques is still talking. “May your scales and your love story be our weird secret forever.”

Dernier nods, satisfied, and taps his glass against Falsworth’s.

**

"What’s that?"

"That? That’s just a prototype." Mr. Stark - Howard, he’d said, call him Howard - tries to lead them over to the rack of guns, but Steve is squatting down, pulling one of the metal shields out from the pile and studying it carefully.

Bucky looks at it, trying to find what interests Steve so much. “What would we do with a shield?”

"Deflect attacks," Steve replies. He slides his arm through the straps and tests its weight. "What’s it made out of? Can it deflect bullets?"

Howard grins crookedly. “And then some, pal.”

**

"I know what a tailor is, a tailor makes clothes.” Steve huffs.

Bucky shakes his head. “They make  _fancy_ clothes, they make clothes that are fitted to you. When you go in for your uniform, they’re gonna have their hands all over you.”

Steve looks slightly alarmed. “What?”

"Remember the doctors?" Bucky waits for Steve to nod. "It’s like that. They’re touching you, but they’re not trying to… you know, make time with you, they’re just checking things."

"Checking things," Steve echoes, unsure.

"Uniforms are supposed to fit really well. They get all your measurements. They’re gonna be near your crotch. It’s normal. Just be prepared, okay?”

Steve grimaces but nods.

**

"How’d it go?"

"Inseam," Steve says curtly, and Bucky cringes.

**

"I know that human food can taste better than this,” Steve says, looking down at the rations in his lap. “Buck, what was that yellow thing you brought me once? From Coney Island?”

"Corn on the cob," Bucky supplies, leaning back against the tree. "It wasn’t even warm by the time I finally got it to you, but you devoured the damn thing."

"It was good.” Steve looks earnestly at Dum-Dum, who kindly pretends that corn is something rare that needs describing. “You don’t eat most of it, just the seeds on the outside, but it’s really, really good.”

"Corn doesn’t grow here," Falsworth says gently. "That’s very much an American crop."

Steve lets out a quiet sigh and nods.

**

Back home, the story becomes more of a legend. Between the news stories and the letters written home by soldiers long thought lost to war, it's easy for Steve become something bigger than a person. There’s a comic book about a huge blond American soldier in a costume who fights for justice and punches Hitler in the face at least once. The Howling Commandos start jokingly calling Steve “Captain America”; ironically, of course. The scary thing is that it sticks.

** 

"What do mermaids look like?” Jones asks one evening, after a particularly long day.

Steve tilts his head. “They’re…” He takes a slow breath. “Well, their fins are usually a little more delicate, especially along their forearms. Mine are blue - I mean, Bucky remembers when they were duller and more turquoise, but they’ve always been blue - but merfolk can have blue or green or sometimes… something close to violet… sometimes dark red, but that’s rare. Like, um.” Steve snaps his fingers - one of the many ‘human’ gestures he’s been teaching himself to do. “Redheads?”

"Redheads," Bucky confirms.

"Like redheads." Steve grins. "And their tails are often slimmer. They taper out in this sort of…" He gestures the shape in the air and visibly fights the urge to get lost in thought for a moment. Dum-Dum snickers.

"When he asked what they look like, he meant are they pretty,” Morita stage-whispers confidingly.

"Oh." Steve’s eyebrows knit together. His elbow cocks out very slightly in that way that only Bucky notices. "Um, humans like… big hips?"

"Yes," Dum-Dum confirms.

"And big chests?"

” _Yes,_ ” Morita enthuses.

"Then yes, definitely." Steve smiles. "Actually, other than all the freckles, that butcher’s wife we met two towns ago, if you cut her hair shorter, she would be a decent example."

Dernier leans back and says something. Jones translates: “That was a big woman.”

"Yes," Steve confirms with a nod. "Big hips, big chest."

"Rather big everything," Falsworth coughs.

Bucky smirks and rolls his eyes. “Part of why Steve was on the shore so much when he was younger was ‘cause he was so little. To stay that far underwater, a person’s gotta have something to keep ‘em warm.”

Morita tilts his head and looks off into the distance, picturing it. “Nothing wrong with something extra to hold onto, I guess.”

"You might have a chance," Steve says, clearly putting some thought into it. "I mean, she wouldn’t expect you to fish for her, and if she’s patient she might teach you how to do her hair."

"Bring her corn," Falsworth suggests.

** 

Dum-Dum comes up with the idea of an “inside joke” excuse to wave away weird behavior, and it’s actually kind of brilliant. They use it when, in an English pub, Steve asks the barman if they serve popcorn. They also use it when Steve mutters, forgetting that there are SSR agents nearby, that he’s sick of his legs.

**

Steve picks up the standard military signals like he was born to do it - in a way, he kind of was.

It takes a lot longer for the Howling Commandos, but they do pick up a few of Steve’s. They have a terrible time with the subtle tilts and flicks that Bucky’s learned to pick up - the ones that are unconscious, the ones that display emotion - but over time the context-dependent signals make more and more sense. In Germany, Dernier picks up on the quirk of lips and the drawn back shoulders that mean “get plan B ready, but don’t start just yet; I’m still gathering intel.” They’re in Austria when Falsworth smacks Dum-Dum’s arm and shakes his head, gesturing over to Steve on the other side of the ambush they’ve set up: Steve’s got the palms-out military gesture for ‘I don’t understand’ combined with his wrist-and-thumb motion that means human technology. Then, palm pulling back, he says to retreat.

Turns out the tech he noticed and didn’t recognize was something similar to the thing that could destroy tanks, so it was good that they held back.

**

"Shit," Bucky mutters, and starts digging through is pack.

"What?" Morita looks over.

"I figured out why he’s got a sad tail, I forgot to - shit. I gotta have something." He keeps rustling through his things, and Jones comes over too, curious.

"He’s had feet for six weeks straight, Barnes. Ain’t no tail anywhere."

"Yeah, but his feet were tucked together and they… listen, just trust me, okay? It’s the same damn thing. He’s all mopey because I forgot to give him something for the new month. I’m such a dunce. Does either of you have a-"

"The Captain’s mad because you didn’t give him a present?"

"Can it, okay? Help me find a nice pebble or something."

”You’re serious?”

**

"So she lays eggs, like a fish?"

"Sort of like a fish," Steve says, ignoring Bucky’s pained expression.

"And the mer-chap, he…" Falsworth gestures very vaguely and Steve just nods along, understanding. "And then after some time they just… hatch."

"Lots of time," Steve corrects. "Not as long as you humans take, but the couple has to take turns caring for the clutch…. it’s usually timed with the full moon or new moons, but that’s kind of a… silly instinctual thing that doesn’t make sense anymore. It doesn’t make a real difference."

"I’m learning a lot in the army," Morita remarks over his tinned beef.

Falsworth waves at him to be quiet. “With fish, you usually get, what, a hundred eggs?”

Steve shakes his head vigorously. “We get a dozen, maybe. And you humans get…” He looks to Bucky for help, but Bucky’s face is in his hands, like he’s reliving a grueling conversation he’s had to have before. “Usually one at a time, but sometimes…?”

Dum-Dum shrugs. “Twins aren’t uncommon. Triplets and more are… well, someone in my hometown had quintuplets and made the papers.”

Steve winces visibly. “How do they all… fit?”

"Human women are a mystery to us too, Cap."

** 

"Ask him to fish for us," Jones hisses.

Bucky scowls and flicks his hand out to the river. “It’s Poland. It’s cold.”

Jones shrugs. “He’s built like a truck now! He can probably take it!”

"No!"

"Just ask him!”

” _No!_ ”

"You wanna keep eating half rations til we make Gdańsk?"

Bucky’s scowl deepens, but he seems to mull over it for the next mile and a half. Finally, before they’re about to set up camp, Jones spots Barnes sidling up to Rogers and canting his head in that way that means he’s asking for something, shifting back and then forth like he's not sure, and Steve perks up like Bucky just asked him to dance.

An hour later, they’re cooking trout. The largest one is cooked first, and is explicitly and exclusively for Bucky.


	5. 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LUCKY YOU - there are two new pieces of gorgeous, wonderful fanart! [This](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/109537473680/another-thing-i-drew-last-night-centaurs-werent) one is something I forgot to link to in the first chapter, and [this](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/111244111255/mersteve-voice-uhm-i-believe-i-was-promised-a) one was done for chapter 1.
> 
> #bluIsAGift

Bucky's shuffling the cards for another round of gin when Steve practically pushes the door off its hinges walking into Tony's villa. He's still drenched in water and his forearms are still blue from where the fins there are receding back into his skin.

"Thor," Steve grits out, looking just about as angry as Bucky's ever seen him, "would you. Go talk to him."

"Of course, friend Rogers." Thor rises from his seat at the table and smooths out the creases in his pants. "I assume the council has moved to the shore to-"

"To accommodate you, yes, of course." Steve gestures backwards with his thumb, lip curled in a snarl. Thor strides out and as soon as the door is clear Steve slams it again, moving toward the couch before realizing he's still soaked. The whole room now shocked into stillness and silence, Bucky wordlessly hands out a towel.

"So this new leader is, um,"

"He's worse than his father was." Steve dabs angrily at himself. Bucky notices only belatedly that he was in such a rush to get out of the ocean and back indoors that his swim shorts are inside-out. "I mean, he was barely a  _guppy_ when I met him, back in the thirties, and even _then_ he was full of himself, so..." He combines a series of gestures that nobody in the room can interpret and huffs.

"He doesn't have to be likable to listen to common sense," Natasha points out, and Steve's shoulders snap back, angry all over again.

"Oh, I didn't even _get_ to that!"

"Get to what?" Bucky asks.

"To  _any_ of it." Steve slices his hand through the air. "It's easy, right? 'Since working with the humans I've learned that they're exploring the ocean even more than we thought! And the pollution's only getting worse! So here, here's  _literally the prince of Asgard,_ who is my  _colleague now_ ; he's willing to let you use the Rainbow Bridge to relocate to  _Asgard_ -"

"Stevie, breathe."

Steve throws his hands in the air. "I'm trying to  _help_ them!"

Natasha has picked up the abandoned deck of cards and resumed shuffling them. "What did he say?"

"That I'm an  _outcast!_ " Steve scowls. "And I don't care, I knew that would happen when Erskine told me his idea. But don't drone on about it for twenty minutes in front of the council instead of listening to me! They could die! Or, worse, in their eyes, be discovered!" _  
_

Tony makes an 'errrr' sound. "So, are they more likely to listen to Thor?"

"Yes." Steve deflates a little and suddenly notices the towel-lined spot on the couch that Jane has made for him. He smiles gratefully, if a bit tightly, and sits. "Our people were good friends with the Asgardians. I think once they're done pontificating and going on about how terrible I am, they'll take the offer and move to one of Asgard's oceans."

"And then you'll never have to see this Namor guy again, right?" Bucky asks.

" _Right_ ," Steve confirms.


	6. 2012 - 2014

_Bucky Barnes: So how's he handling the caviar restaurant?_

_Tony Stark: There is literally no such thing as a caviar restaurant. It is a caviar_   _TASTING, and he has accidentally garnered the attention of everyone here._

_Bucky Barnes: I warned you not to take him out without me_

_Tony Stark: He is CORRECTING THE SERVER on what parts of what oceans the fish grew up in. I fucking love this guy. I am taking him everywhere_

**

**

Bucky really, really doesn’t know what goes wrong with Clint - he returns from a mission in Belarus about a week after he and Steve move into the Tower. Clint makes some jokes about how the pool has been drained and replaced with salt water, Steve asks him about how he met Natasha, and that weird and world-hopping story is enough to get them going in a very human conversation with real, spoken words.

(Steve still cants his head just so to say ‘go on, I’m listening’, but Clint’s smart, and he picks up on it.)

After a few days, though, Bucky realizes that every time Clint walks into a room Steve is  _quietly seething_. What the hell happened? Nobody else notices, because Steve’s eyes only lid a little, his body language shifts to what Bucky’s called ‘angry fish’ since he was twelve, and… what the  _hell_  did Clint do?

It’s not until a movie night that he figures it out. Bucky’s sitting on the couch with Steve at his feet, absently finger-combing the gold strands of hair this way and that when it hits him. *Clint doesn’t groom Natasha*. They’re sitting side-by-side on the couch, Clint’s arm slung over the back of the couch, but no little comb, no finger-waves, nothing, not ever. (Not in public, anyway.) And of course Steve would have been in Natasha’s room and seen a complete lack of tiny baubles, no small presents given to her even though her boyfriend’s been back in town for about ten days now.

He pulls Steve into the kitchen. “You have to remember jerk behavior for merfolk isn’t necessarily jerk behavior for humans.”

Steve already knows what he’s talking about. “He didn’t even bring her back a  _necklace_.”

Bucky gestures emphatically. “He doesn’t have to! He’s not some neglectful asshole boyfriend. I know what you’re used to, and I’m happy to give you every sparkly thing you could ever want, but you can’t hold everyone to the same standards.”

Steve stands there, pouting, but doesn’t argue.

"Besides. Do you really think Natasha’d stay with someone who she felt ignored by?"

Steve huffs. “I just think  _someone_  should be giving her jewelry.”

**

**

Bucky sometimes tags along with Jane and Darcy on their shopping trips, because they go to middle-of-the-road girly places. Pepper and Natasha have really expensive tastes, but Darcy loves comfy knitwear and chunky earrings and where Darcy goes, Bucky can usually find sparkly stuff for Steve.

He’s got the routine down: shopping for his girlfriend  _Stephanie_ , because it’s just… easier. Darcy and Jane don’t mind. They let him tag along and get really excited when he starts providing quiet opinions on which of the two tops looks better on Jane. (Turns out Bucky has a really good eye for silhouettes.)

Steve’s both really easy and really hard to shop for. Cheap and sparkly is perfect, but it also has to be something that won’t rust, won’t get glitter in the pool, and won’t fall apart in water (cheap glue). Jane and Darcy start learning the unwritten checklist themselves and will sometimes make a find across the store, holding it up and yelling, “For Stephanie!”

**

**

"You were right to come to me," Natasha says, smiling.

Steve shrugs helplessly. "Clint and Bruce seem to have no opinion on fashion. Tony would have told me to get something like a tiara."

Natasha tilts her head, staring off in the distance, as if giving the mental image of Bucky wearing a tiara its moment to shine. "What modern men traditionally wear," she says, "are watches."

"Watches," Steve echoes doubtfully.

Natasha nods. "I know, you don't want to get him something functional, but the only other option is a chain necklace, and that's both something associated with New Jersey-" She breaks into laughter upon seeing Steve's cringe. "-and something that has to be very, very thin and simple to be socially appropriate for a man."

"So, a watch." Steve nods grimly as if accepting this fate.

"When is this holiday again?"

"Equinox. We used to adjust the calendar date for when  _our_  planet would have its equinox, but that fell out of fashion a while back."

"We have some time, then. Want to go shopping online or in person?"

Steve bites his lip. "Can we start with online?"

**

**

Clint tosses another piece of popcorn into the air and catches it in his mouth before continuing to read. "'We knew something was  _fishy_ ,'" he says, in his best impression of Dum-Dum, "'when the enemy  _scaled_ back their defenses and retreated to...' Oh my God, they really are everywhere."

Bruce, who also has a copy of the official interviews, is muttering to himself bemusedly while swiping his highlighter over at least one phrase per page.

"Morita says 'up to the gills' three times in ten paragraphs," Tony reports, tapping his tablet. "These weren't crutch phrases. This was a  _code_."

"It's not a code if they're not expecting or wanting anyone to crack it," Clint argues mildly. "I bet they had a running bet of who could do more puns."

"That sounds like them," Steve agrees, and relaxes further into the couch.  

**

**

**

Sam Wilson is up early for a jog, running along the Potomac and getting a good sweat going, and he could swear there’s something in the water keeping up with him... what the hell  _is_  that?


	7. 2014 - 1934

"Where did you even  _find_  this guy? How do we know we can trust him?"

Sam stops in the hallway, deciding against his better judgement to listen through the door. It sounds like Bucky Barnes -  _Bucky Barnes, who is in his house_ \- is arguing with Steve. Steve Rogers. Who is  _also_  in his house.

Because, apparently, everyone they know is trying to kill them.

"Steve met him jogging," Natasha says. Bucky makes a disbelieving noise.

"Since when do you go jogging?"

"Since a few weeks ago."

"Why'd you start? What aren't you telling me?"

"Well, the Potomac's usually not very clear, so when it  _was_ for once I decided-"

"You did not."

"It was fine! Nobody saw me."

"Well, Sam saw you."

"Natasha, hush."

"No, Natasha, do not hush. What do you mean Sam saw him?"

"He  _may_ have seen my tail.  _Part_  of my tail. While he was jogging."

"So we can trust him because he might have seen a tail in the Potomac? Why'd you start jogging?"

"To get to know him. He jogged there a lot."

"How often were you swimming next to him!?"

"He seemed nice!"

"Should I be jealous of this guy?"

Sam blinks repeatedly at the door.

**

**

"Steve, you know punching a monitor doesn't destroy the computer, right?"

Steve scowls unapologetically. "Zola  _hurt_ you."

Bucky shrugs one shoulder as if to say 'fair enough' just as another screen lights up.

" _As I was saying..._ "

**

**

There’s something really special about coming home from a successful mission. Everyone has their own routine - Pepper draws Tony upstairs and they spend some time together on their floor. Sam usually opts for either shooting the shit with Clint and Natasha over beers or watching whatever’s on ESPN and barely drinking for all the shit he talks about whatever team he’s rooting against.

Steve goes to the salt water pool.

The uniform ends up a crumpled mess in the corner by the door, and by the time Bucky’s showered off and joining him, Steve’s legs are already scaling over and shifting back into a tail. From the way Steve’s back always arches and relaxes back down against the lip of the pool, Bucky figures it’s sort of like taking your boots off after a long day.

"Thought this might be a good time," Bucky says, right hand fishing around in his pocket and finally closing around the tiny velvet pouch. Steve looks over his shoulder out of courtesy, but Bucky can tell he’s barely paying attention. The fins are seeping out of his skin, rearranging themselves on their rightful places up his spine and along his ribcage. Bucky smiles.

"Mm?" Steve asks, eyes flickering to his pocket and then to his face. He looks relaxed. It turns to pleasant surprise when Bucky pulls out the bag, and then delighted when Bucky hooks one finger into the bag and starts slowly dragging out the long string of thin black pearls.

"I know you like ‘em because your earfins just twitched."

"I-" Steve trails off and then laughs at himself. "They’re  _gorgeous_.”

"They’re gonna look more gorgeous on you, doll. Can I put ‘em on you now?"

"Only if I can pull you in here as soon as you’re done and-"

"Yes. Definitely."

**

**

"It -  _nothing_  ever looked anything like that!” Steve scowls at the television.

Thor tilts his head as if to better examine the animated scene, chewing his lip. “The stories my father told of your old world mentioned impressive spires and-“

"Don’t encourage them." Steve crosses his arms and shoots a dirty look to Bucky, who is examining the  _The Little Mermaid_ case in his hand and pretending not to smile.

"Don’t be so glum," Sam intones, doing his best impression of a Jamaican accent. "Everyt’ing is better down where it’s - hey!" He deflects the pillow.

**

**

The Barnes interviews are technically copyrighted, but they're on YouTube anyway.

"You know, we met most of Bucky's friends, but we never did get to meet Steve." Mrs. Barnes smiles to the man to the right of the camera. "He was very sickly when he was young. We always wanted to invite him and his mother over for Christmas dinner some time, but you know, they always left town to visit relatives in the South starting around October or November. I think Steve's lungs just couldn't handle New York winters... we didn't have reliable heating then like we do now.

"His mother home schooled him, you know. That was very uncommon back then. Especially when you didn't have the money for a tutor."

There's a beat. Her sad smile quirks a little at the edges. "I'd catch Bucky stuffing rolls and fruit into his bag before going to visit Steve's apartment. Bucky was a good boy like that. We were always very proud of him."

**

**

**

**

"This apple is weird."

"That's a  _pear_ ," Bucky corrects patiently.

Steve's expression is dubious. The slender spines on his back flatten. After a few moments, he sinks his teeth in and makes a pleased sound.

"As good as apples?" Bucky asks, tilting his head.

"No," Steve says around a mouthful, wriggling a little further onto shore and holding the pear in both hands. "But still good." Bucky waits until he's finished the whole thing, taking the core back and stuffing it into his knapsack. "Wait here." He slips back into the water and disappears a few moments, finally returning with something in a wheat bag. It looks big.

"What's that?"

"Salmon," Steve says, tugging the bag open to show him. "Your mom's birthday is tomorrow, isn't it?"

Bucky's eyes get big. "Salmon's expensive."

"Good on you for saving up your allowance, then." Steve snickers and hefts the bag up to hand to him, still dripping. "How, um, how do humans normally...?"

"We wrap 'em in newspaper. I'll buy one on the way home." Bucky bites his lip. "I think I owe you a few more pears."

"Apples."

"Right, apples."

"Or grapes!"

Bucky swats at him, but is somewhat overpowered when Steve (unfairly) responds with his tail.


	8. 2012

The game on the radio is pleasant background noise. It's actually the snuffling that wakes Bucky up; there's a warm nose pressing in to the spot between his neck and his shoulder, letting out little gusts of air across his chest as the other person exhales.

Bucky grunts and lifts the hand that isn't trapped under someone's body weight, swatting ineffectually at the other person's head. Steve makes a quiet injured sounds and burrows closer, one leg hooking around his.

"Let a fella breathe," Bucky mumbles, and squints against the light of the room. It's unfamiliar. White walls. The bed feels strange underneath him and the air is oddly still.

"You can breathe enough to complain," Steve points out, mouth brushing against the hollow of Bucky's throat.

Bucky's short-term memory feels strangely empty. He blinks a few more times until the room comes into better focus. Where  _is_  he? Where are  _they?_  "Steve?"

"Mmm?"

The radio is still playing. The room's not familiar, but the game  _is_. How does that make sense? "Something's wrong."

"I know. We're alive." Steve stretches, groaning indulgently, before draping himself over Bucky again. "S'nice."

Were they not alive before? Was there a firefight?

A crash?

Bucky shoots up in the bed, dislodging Steve.

**

"Whatever the hell it is, you managed to keep it quiet." Fury leans back in the impressive black chair behind his desk, steepling his fingers. "We thought you'd managed to keep it from everyone, until some of the researchers here started going through old interviews. Do you know how many times Falsworth mentioned your 'ocean-blue' eyes, Rogers? There were theories that man held a torch for you. In reality, he was making goddamn fish puns."

Steve makes an impressed noise while Bucky crosses his arms. "It's like we said. The Krauts experimented on a lotta folks."

"But they didn't experiment on  _him_ ," Fury enunciates, jabbing a finger at Steve. "Blood tests don't tell a complete story, but they tell enough. One man's DNA starts out normal, gets mucked with. The other man's DNA looks like something we've never  _seen_  before, gets mucked with even further." He levels his good eye on Steve, who looks stubbornly unperturbed. "The Army never lost your paperwork, did they. You never enlisted."

Steve tilts his head politely and gives the calm, vacant look of someone who doesn't feel obligated to answer. Bucky, who is way less calm about the situation and is not nearly as convinced as Steve that being war heroes will exonerate them from social judgement or perjury, leans forward in his chair.

"Steve saved us all in Italy," he says quietly.

"And countless more after Italy, to boot." Fury holds up a sheaf of papers from the desk. "Nobody's here to say you two weren't heroes. Or to give a damn about who's canoodling with who."

_Intimacy_ , Bucky translates subtly with his left hand as he uncrosses his arms. "You're being damn nosy about things you say don't concern you."

"And the false sense of security you tried to instill with that hospital room doesn't exactly inspire trust," Steve adds.

"Humans often experience something called shock, Captain Rogers." Fury arches one eyebrow. "We were trying to save you both from that unpleasant sensation as much as we could."

"So you were trying to be  _nice_ to us, and you're  _not_ trying to get us written up for anything." Bucky smiles thinly. "That mean we're free to go?"

"Actually, I'd like to talk to you both about something called the Avengers Initiative."

**

"It's your third day awake," the SHIELD agent says gently. "I'd really recommend showing you more documentaries and films to get you attuned to modern life before-"

Steve holds up a hand. "I promise you we can handle a lot. Maybe we can do a short trip?"

"A grocery run," Bucky suggests, and Steve nods. "Nothing too exciting."

**

"This is  _so exciting_ ," Steve whispers an hour later.

"It's just a corner store." Bucky scoots them both away from the doorway so a woman and her child can get in. "You - Kim?"

"Kim," Agent Kim affirms.

"Kim, you're saying there are bigger ones than this not too far away."

"This is just a bodega," Kim says, and beckons them further in. "The fresh food selection is limited, but this is a good example of where New Yorkers go to get something quick. We'll work up to big box stores."

_Wow,_  Steve signs, eyebrows high. He stares at the cramped shelves of boxes for a moment, then walks over to the icebox-looking thing against the wall and peers at the different drinks.

Bucky sidles up to him and nudges his side. Steve looks over.  _All expensive_ , he signs with a frown, and Steve nods and leans over to get Kim's attention. "Let's try big box," he says confidently, and gives his best Captain America smile when Kim looks uncertain.

**

"I think this is what Agent Kim meant," Steve says quietly.

"When he said 'too exciting'?"

"Yes," Steve whispers back.

"Well, show a good face," Bucky whispers back, even though he too looks harried and overwhelmed. "And my god, get some pineapples."

"What're  _pine_ apples?"

"The scary-lookin' things with the spikes."

"I'm trusting you. Are they like regular apples?"

"Not at all."

 


	9. 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for bluandorange, in exchange for [the awesome Steve-in-a-tub art](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/111244111255/mersteve-voice-uhm-i-believe-i-was-promised-a).
> 
> There are very light TWs for this chapter. In case you don't want to be spoiled, I put them [at the end](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3347195/chapters/7488233#chapter_9_endnotes).

Steve sets the bottle down and leans into Bucky's shoulder.

"Do you remember," he says, enunciating very slowly, "that time in August?"

Bucky laughs and buries is nose in Steve's hair. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific."

"In  _August_ ," Steve repeats, and then draws himself up for a deep sigh. "We were kids. You'd been dating Susanne a little earlier."

"Oh. August."

"Yeah," Steve enthuses. "I finally got up the nerve to just open your pants up and... and start petting you everywhere."

Bucky feels himself swipe his tongue over his lips without thinking. "That was a good night."

Steve giggles. "You came  _three times_  that night."

"A really, really good night." Bucky smiles at him through lidded eyes. "What got you thinkin' about that, anyway?"

Steve shrugs. "Just... thinking about. How it's nice to do new things."

The comment hangs in the air for a while. Bucky tipsily tries to find the meaning in it and is startled out of his reverie when Steve's hand slides down, gripping him through his jeans. Bucky arches into the touch and lets out an appreciative moan.

"Wanna suck you," Steve mumbles against his neck, and Bucky suddenly can't get enough air, breathing hard as Steve's hand starts stroking him through the denim.

"Steve," Bucky says, because there's something important he needs to remember, to think of, because Steve's  _never_  wanted to do this and now Steve's tongue is pressing against the spot behind his ear, making his cock press more insistently against his jeans. "Your people don't... they don't do stuff? Like that? Mouths. On. Places." He puts a hand on Steve's thigh to anchor himself, but it's not really working.

"They also don't give handjobs. But I've gotten good at those." Steve's fingers clumsily tug the button open, then the zipper, stroking against the soft material of his boxers now. "Right?"

"Yeah, doll." Bucky's head falls back against the couch, and he stares blearily at the ceiling. "So fuckin' good."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, and then he's quiet, and no longer in Bucky's peripheral vision. It's not until Bucky feels his boxers getting tugged down that he realizes that this isn't a  _hypothetical_  conversation; that Steve is bent over him and means to do it  _now_ , and he feels his heart slam against his rib cage. He jumps as if burned.

"Steve!"

"Quit movin'," Steve laughs, hands chasing after him. His smile disappears as Bucky continues to scoot down the couch and away from him, too far into his drinks to verbalize the problem yet but making damn sure not to let anything happen.

"Can't," Bucky finally manages, and switches gears and reaches out when Steve's expression turns to pained, hurt.

"Why don't you want me to?" Steve flinches away from the hand coming toward his cheek and scowls at it.

"I  _do_ ," Bucky says, and then winces, trying to get this out right. "We're drunk."

"So it'll be nicer."

"No, you. You've never wanted to do this before."

"And now I'm not thinkin' so much." Steve frowns, looking Bucky over, eyes lingering on his crotch. "You think I'll be bad at it."

" _No_. No. Doll, no. Hey, no. Stevie." Bucky chases after him more furtively now, crawling on top of him and straddling Steve on the couch. "It's not like that. I don't want you to do something now you won't like later."

"You don't want me to," Steve repeats to himself, a line forming between his eyebrows. He's looking away. Bucky can't see it, but underneath his legs he can feel Steve's thighs shift as his ankles link together. Shit.  _Shit_.

"Babydoll," Bucky tries, taking one of Steve's hands and squeezing it gently. "I wanna take good care of you." His vision's a little fuzzy -  _damn_ , Stark can make some potent booze - but he thinks he sees Steve's expression change, just a little. "Don't I always take good care of you?"

"Yes," Steve says, because he would never deny that, even when he's pouting. In a moment of clarity Bucky remembers that the best way to get out of situations like this is by diversion. He takes the hand in his and starts playing with it, stroking the pads of his fingertips up and down the palm. Steve's breath stutters, interested.

"Lemme show you," Bucky says slowly, buying time to put a plan together. "I'll show you how nice it could be. You know I think about sucking  _you_  , right?" He looks at Steve nod, looking at him through his lashes, and Bucky gives him his best wolfish grin in response. He gently tucks Steve's fingers down until there are only two, and he drags his lower teeth along them while holding eye contact. Surprised, Steve sits up a little straighter, eyes widening when Bucky's tongue flicks out and drags along the side of his middle finger.

"Buck," Steve says throatily, and that's when Bucky knows that Steve's forgotten to be upset. He pulls back and wets his lips, assessing the two fingers and then using his free hand to straighten them out until they're... more erect. Brushes his lips faintly against the tip, along the side, back up again. When he sneaks a peek, Steve's cheeks are starting to flush.

"I'd go real slow at first," Bucky murmurs against the skin, settling his hips and resting more of his weight on Steve's thighs. "Give you lots've time to... get used to it." He brushes his lips against the fingertips again, then noses down to nuzzle all the way down to Steve's wrist. Back up.

Steve is squirming in the way that means his erection is starting to get uncomfortable. Bucky hides his grin by turning his head, opening his mouth to suck wetly at the knuckles, to lap at them, and while he wasn't 100% sure if this kind of foreplay would translate to someone who's actually never  _gotten_  head before... Steve's red down to his collarbones now, so it's working one way or another.

"How you likin' it?" Bucky asks, just to be sure.

Past words, Steve jerks his chin to say 'keep going', and Bucky hums, amused, looking back down at Steve's trembling hand.

"You've usually got so much precome... I think I'd lick it up for you." Bucky circles his tongue over the spot between Steve's fingertips, dipping in as much as he can, feeling himself press against the fabric of Steve's jeans. This  _is_  a nice fantasy, if he lets himself get swept up in it too. "Course, just as soon as I cleaned you up there'd probably be more."

He remembers enough of what felt good with his girlfriends to have an idea of what to do; he laps at the head, squeezing the base, fingertips stroking up and down and slowing down and going lighter when Steve's breathing gets too labored.

" _Buck_ ," Steve says again, but can't finish the thought.

"Mmm." Bucky can feel a flush creeping along his neck. He can imagine this more clearly than in his personal fantasies now; can imagine Steve's red face above him as he does this for him. "I want  _more_ of you, Stevie."

"What..."

Bucky closes his eyes and, heart racing more than it should, sucks the fingers into his mouth, only to the first knuckle, pinning Steve back down to the couch by the thighs when he starts to squirm. Steve's body is tense under his, arching toward the contact, and as Bucky takes the fingers deeper into his mouth he can hear the quiet litany of his name. Bucky pulls off with a slick sound.

"Gotta hold still, doll. The skin's sensitive there. I don't wanna scrape my teeth on you by accident." He licks delicately, swirling around the tip, moaning as he tips his head down and makes a show of taking it all down.

Beneath him, Steve goes tenser than ever, crying out and coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: Tipsy sex! Plus a moment of dubious consent. (Meaning: It'll look like something bad's gonna happen, but it won't. Everything is cool. This is a happy fun-time story.)


	10. 2013 - 2015

Over time, once the dust has settled in New York and the Avengers are met with more excitement than suspicion, the team starts doing interviews.

It's old hat for Tony. He has what Rhodey calls "senator-level skill" at deflecting questions he doesn't want to answer. He can make the reporters laugh and pose for a few photos without any problem.

Natasha and Clint function as a monosyllabic unit. Bruce avoids the stress entirely (and with little resistance). Thor scares the reporters, even though he's always smiling. Natasha helps Steve and Bucky acclimate to the idea of an infotainment media world, but they mostly let Tony do the talking.

Until Steve learns that you can be a special interest advocate.

There's already plenty of Stark's money and man-hours going into ocean-cleaning solutions, and anyway, what Steve's really drawn to is education. Steve does events at libraries and even a few charity balls to raise money for inner-city schools. Bucky tags along, smirking in tuxes and glad-handing the mayors and billionaires.

If he's being honest, he feels he should feel guiltier for the little white lies he tells. His memories of playing with Steve in the tiny run-down apartment that never existed. Extolling the values of Steve's mother, who he never met.

Pretending they're friends.

He  _should_  feel guiltier. Guilty at all. But even in this second chance at life he's been given, he's serving his country and doing good, so he allows himself a few indulgences.

(If Steve could ever be reduced to something like an indulgence.)

**

"Your serum must help, but how do you stay in shape?"

Bucky smiles winningly at the reporter. "I swim a lot."

**

**

**

**

Sam sits down at the breakfast table, still in his jogging gear, and gives Bucky a look.

Bucky looks back at him over his mouthful of waffles. "Wh?" He asks, glancing over to Natasha to see if she has any insight. She ignores him and continues working on her fruit salad - no insight.

"Explain a fish thing for me."

"I will if you stop calling them fish things," Bucky offers, but Sam continues as if he hadn't heard him:

"We meet up, we go jogging, everything's fine. He's kinda quiet, but he's okay."

"And he's not ducking his head away from you?"

Sam waves impatiently. "I checked for that, man, I'm not an idiot." He sighs. "But he's quiet for a long time, and usually he's the one keeping the conversation going, not me, 'cause that asshole never gets out of breath, you know? So I ask him if everything's okay and he says  _he's not sure_."

Sam's pause for effect is not lost on the room. Natasha stops chewing. Bucky leans in.

"So I ask him if he wants to talk about it, he says he doesn't really know what to say. We make it to the park and he nearly trips over a toddler circling back around to run back home. We're only like halfway into our route and that man is _through_  with running. He is  _donion rings._ "

"Donion rings," Buchy echoes uncertainly.

"Means he was done." Natasha quirks a brow and leans back in her chair. "So what then?"

Sam shrugs helplessly. "Went after him. Couldn't keep up. By the time I made it back here Jarvis said he was already in the pool downstairs."

Bucky tries to figure out if this is some kind of emergency or not. "The merfolk finished relocating almost a month ago. This would be a really delayed response to feeling..." He gestures in the air. "Anything about that."

Natasha frowns. "Did the environment change?"

"More people, I guess," Sam hazards. "I mean, the trail's got some joggers and bikers, and then it opens up into the park, and that's when he bolted."

Bucky looks down at his plate, then at Sam. "You think it could be something?"

"No idea."

Bucky pushes his plate away and gets up.

**

The lights in the subterranean pool are still off; the ones in the ceiling  _and_  the ones scattered throughout the water. Bucky sets his jaw, listening, and hears some distinct swirls in the water. He's in there.

Bringing up the ceiling lights just enough to see where he's going, Bucky starts shucking off his clothes and finds his custom breathing masks. He checks it in the mirror to make sure it's secure - damn thing always reminds him of some kind of fencing mask that only covers the bottom half of his face - and dives in, looking for a familiar shape among the rocks and smooth floor.

It's not bright, but Bucky can see Steve signing as soon as he spots him:  _Sorry sorry sorry sorry_

 _Stop. Stop._   Bucky swims closer and looks Steve over, trying to tell if the spines along his back are really more distinct than usual or if he's just getting paranoid.   _What's wrong? Sick?_

 _No_  , Steve answers, then hesitates.   _Not sure. Feel weird._

_Explain?_

Steve keeps swirling in agitated circles, expression tense.  _Can't rest. Need to do something? Unclear._

Bucky reaches out and touches Steve's arm. keeping him more or less in place, but Steve doesn't seem soothed. It looks like it's taking effort for him to keep still. Bucky lets him go, moving with him instead and picking up a trail around the bottom of the pool. Steve keeps lapping him, or moving too fast and having to double back. Keeps signing  _sorry_  only for Bucky to wave it away.

He tries to think of a way to ask if Steve feels like he's been dosed.  _Eaten... bad human medicine?_

Steve seems to understand.  _No. Not in brain. In muscles, bones. Deeper._

_What?_

_I don't know._

_Please explain._

Steve makes an agitated gesture and does a lap again, kicking up pebbles and even some smaller rocks from the floor of the pool. Bucky 'sits' and watches.

 _Please come up,_  Bucky says, after the second one is done. Steve tucks his head apologetically and rises with him to the surface.

"I don't  _know_ ," Steve repeats, sounding more angry at himself than anything else.

"I want Bruce to look at you."

Steve's tail smacks irritably against the surface of the water. "Fine."


	11. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all's comments are so nice <3

Bruce turns out to be asleep after a particularly long night testing something to do with minimizing radiation effects after power plant disasters, and Steve agrees to wait until he wakes, obviously aware that even his current state is no risk compared to waking Banner up before he's ready.

Bruce, bless him, comes into the lab still wearing his pajamas. "Is there a problem?" He blinks politely. Steve, who has opted for the tub instead of the exam table, tilts his head apologetically and stays silent while they recap the symptoms.

Bruce chews his lip and pulls some screens out of the air. "Steve, you've never seen someone of your species exhibit these...? No, of course not, you'd've mentioned." He pulls some gloves on. "This might be a good justification of my bi-weekly blood samples, actually. Let's get draw a fresh vial and run it against the last three months."

Bucky is reminded again of all the research Bruce has done on this, even though it is outside of his field of study. Work that he's had to promise not to publish until the secret, inevitably, gets out. Behind him, Steve obediently holds out his right arm and begins swiping the water droplets off of it. Bruce draws the blood, using a device Bucky always thinks looks too simple to work and plugging it into a machine that works too fast to be real. Several screens appear that look like three-dimensional bar charts.

When Bruce says "hmm" for the sixth time, looking at the overlay of data, Bucky finally snaps.

"What?"

"Oh." Bruce looks at him, then Steve, as if he honestly forgot they were in the room. "So, Steve shares a lot of traits with us, hormone-wise, but his baseline levels are completely different than ours."

"Okay...?"

Bruce takes a breath and pulls up two other screens. "Said baselines are slightly complicated by the modified Asgardian serum, but that's a variable we can compare against  _your_ modified Asgardian serum, which is..." His fingertips hover over the second screen. "Just trust me that that doesn't seem to be either the catalyst or the affected thing here."

"So it's not a serum thing," Steve summarizes.

"Right." Bruce is reduced to 'hmm's again for another few moments. "So, these levels start to spike... here, which is related to these..." He glances sidelong at Steve. "Jarvis, please date the blood samples on the chart."

Dates appear.

"And when did the last of the merfolk...? Yes, okay, that's almost a month."

"You thought of that too?" Bucky asks.

Bruce shrugs. "Some of Steve's readouts vary with the moon cycle, but it's usually a small enough variation to be almost negligible."

The room is silent for a few more moments. Bucky, noticing Steve's fidgeting, leans over to him. "You could always shift and jog around the room," he suggests.

Steve's mouth twists. "My human skin  _itches_."

Bucky frowns, reaching out and stroking his hair. (Bruce, even if he noticed, wouldn't care.)

"These variations have never pervaded to your Asgardian form before," Bruce comments, pulling another screen up. "Steve, are you aware of a situation where someone of your species has ever been alone before?"

Steve frowns. "I'm not-"

"Sorry. Vague phasing." Bruce heaves in a breath. "Someone of your species has ever been... the only person of their species on an entire planet."

Steve goes oddly still. Bucky feels the blood drain out of his face.

"We were always on our home world," Steve says finally, voice quiet. "And then the refugees came here... and now they're all in Asgard."

Bruce nods, eyes gentle. "So you might be the first example of such a situation," he says.

"Is he dying?" Bucky asks.

"No! No. No, this is not," Bruce jerks his finger toward the screen and then cuts through the air with his hand, shaking his head, clearly thrown off balance. "That's not a possibility here. Vitals are fine. Even the neurochemical catalysts that allow him to shift are functioning normally. I see no reason to, to suspect that."

Steve smacks Bucky's arm. "What're you worrying about that for?"

"You -" Bucky huffs. "Your people are  _all about groups_. And the moon. It's groups and the moon. If your, your DNA thinks you're lonely, I don't know, maybe,"

"Groups and the moon," Bruce agrees quickly, latching on to the awkward phrase. "The refugees left, and next new moon is two days from now, and you've explained before, that, um," Bruce's cheeks tinge a little while he looks to Steve. "That certain... drives.... are only held by those who lead the group?"

"Drives," Steve echoes confusedly, and blinks as Bucky translates with a quick sign. "Oh. Oh! Yes, the instinctual reproduction urges are left to the." Steve trails off and blinks. "I'm not in  _charge_  of anyone," he says confusedly, looking from Bruce to Bucky.

"But nobody's in charge of  _you_ , now," Bruce says delicately.

Bucky processes this. "So he's... king of himself?"

Bruce shrugs. "Theory. Untested theory. I need more time to analyze. See if any new symptoms appear."

Steve shifts in the water, sitting up straighter and pushing a hand through his hair.

 _You okay?_   Bucky asks.   _Idea valid?_

 _When we came to these oceans..._   His hands falter.   _The then-king. His feelings were very strange. No further details. The doctors said it was because the..._ He signs something Bucky can only figure means 'population' and 'suddenly very low'.

_What'd he do?_

Steve flushes and hides his face beneath the lip of the tub.

"Was he o _kay?_ " Bucky asks sharply.

"He  _didn't die!_ " Steve snaps in a weird voice, submerging further.

Bruce raises a hand politely as if waiting for his turn to speak. Bucky scrubs at his face and translates.

"When the refugees came here, the king was reported to feel strange, and their specialists attributed it to... population drop."

Bruce nods. "Did these specialists come up with a solution?"

Bucky looks at the tub, but Steve just sinks even further, his tail sticking out comically on the other side.

**

_You can tell me anything._

_I want to try to get past this._

_Are you sure that's a possibility?_

No answer.

_Grows Fast Human can help. We should go back to him._

Nothing.

_You're worrying me._

No answer.

_I want to help you feel okay._

Steve tucks his chin and flicks his tail just enough to drift into Bucky's arms. Bucky holds him for a few minutes before gently turning him around and putting enough space between them to continue talking.

 _If we need to visit Asgard sometimes_  , he signs,   _we can do that. Or if you need to -_

 _I'm not moving there._   Steve scowls.   _I don't like them. Erskine is dead. My mother is dead. They wouldn't have me anyway._

_But you lived on land when they were in the water. You could live with Prince Asgardian's family and never have to -_

_No. No. No. No._

**

_I could come with you._

_No. No. No. No. No._


	12. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and particularly ridiculous. Thanks again to everyone who leaves comments/sends asks on Tumblr.

"I don't even remember fighting you," Bucky says, squinting as if to get a better look at him. "Were you one of Schmidt's cronies?"

Zemo makes an exasperated noise, grabbing a device off the table and hitting a button. A screen drops down from the ceiling of the lair and displays two blurry camera feeds. Flashing lights in each monitored room indicate that the hatches are about to open and eject the captives out into the bottom of the sea.

"You may pretend not to remember our rivalry, but no matter." Zemo gestures impatiently at the screens. "You lot have a deadly choice to make today - who to save from the clutches of a watery end? Your valiant War Machine or your precious Captain America?"

"Wait, you're ejecting them into the ocean?" Iron Man shares a look with Black Widow.

"Yes!" Zemo cackles. "The very deepest part of the sea, in fact. You must ch-"

"We pick War Machine," Iron Man interrupts.

Zemo's smile disappears. "What?"

"War Machine," Hawkeye repeats from the back, pointing to the screen on the left. "We pick him."

Fingers curling in frustration, Zemo huffs. "How can you be so, so  _blasé_ , abo-"

"Cap's been a grouchy gus for a few weeks and it's been getting to all of us," Iron Man explians. "Besides, I'm the leader of the group, and War Machine was my college roommate. There's a code to these things. Bring 'im out." He makes a bored hurry-up gesture.

"...fine. Fine! My associates will stop the... Gott im Himmel, you are all the worst nemeses I could possibly... you realize this underwater lair is deep enough that the water pressure alone will crush him to death, yes?"

"Terrible," Bucky says flatly. "A good friend lost."

"And  _enormous sea creatures_  will probably eat-"

"Oh good, he's out." Falcon smiles at the screen where the lights have stopped flashing and War Machine is getting escorted back into the main base. On the other screen, Captain America is chewing his lip, lifting the top half of his costume up over his head and removing his boots as the hatch begins to whirr.

Zemo looks overwhelmingly vexed. "Even if his super-serum allows him to endure the cold, there's no _way_ he's fast enough to outswim the-"

"We'll miss him," Black Widow says convincingly.

**

Later, when Zemo's in cuffs and they're reconvening on the shore, Hawkeye finally points off in the distance and starts waving an arm high up in the air in greeting. A few moments later, the dot comes into view for everyone else.

"He's gonna need pants," Bucky says thoughtfully, and reaches for the specialized pocket in his utility belt.

"He's dragging something behind him," Bruce comments. He shields his eyes from the sun and tilts his head. "Something big. It might be... actually, I don't know what that is."

"It looks endangered," Sam says helpfully.

Rhodey laughs. "Whatever it is, it might be extinct now."

"Did he kill it because he needed to or because he's trying to take the edge off?" Natasha asks.

"I'm sure he killed it for a good reason." Bucky unfolds the emergency shorts and glances over. "Or maybe it tastes good?"

Tony makes an interested noise. "I could go for ika sushi tonight."

**

**

Cap does his best to hold it together. After a few more weeks the facade really begins to crack.

Some punching bags become detached. A mysterious punch-size hole appears in the locker room. These issues are not discussed.

**

**

Rhodey's completely suited up by the time he realizes Steve is pulling his costume on. "Um, Cap, you can probably sit this one out if you-"

"I want to go."

Rhodey flips his mask up to share a look with Bucky. "Are you sure? It's just some Doombots. The rest of us can-"

"I  _want_  to," Steve repeats, pulling his mask over his head with slightly more force than is strictly necessary.

 _Maybe it'll be good for him,_  Bucky mouths to Rhodey, who just shrugs with a whirr of his suit.

**

Iron Man is nearly crying with laughter as he records it all.

"Cap smash!" he shouts, as Steve hurls two Doombots into a third. Black Widow and Hawkeye have finished evacuating the citizens and aren't even bothering to engage; all the AIs have determined that Captain America is the biggest threat and he is handling them all just fine.

War Machine hmms, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. "I think when Bruce hears about this, he's gonna suggest some new strategies for you two."

Bucky rubs the bridge of his nose and says nothing.

**

**

_We need to go back to Grows Fast Human.  You aren't well._

Steve tucks his chin in. _You're right._

_What are you so nervous about?_

_Let's see what he says._


	13. 2015

Bruce pulls up some new readouts and comparison charts, but he brings Jane in because he can't explain it in plain English. Jane looks over the readings, listens to Bruce's jargon, nods along, and finally stops, her face going a strange color.

"I'm going to go get Darcy," Jane chirps, and runs out of the room.

**

"Recognition denied," Darcy says flatly.

"What?"

"Miserable until reproduction." Darcy points to Steve, then to the chart that shows Steve's hormone readouts over the last six months, following the line's progression. "Boop... boop..." She mimes a radar picking up nothing. "Boop..." Her finger reaches the spike. " _Wanna...baby... wanna baby... babybabybabybabybaby!"_

Jane puts a hand on Darcy's arm and smiles awkwardly, stepping forward. "Um. Is this something you two have ever thought about?"

Bucky looks at her with a bewildered expression. "...what, adoption?"

"Er," Jane says, and then clears her throat. "So. Steve's original form has what Bruce has been calling a 'clown fish capability'. It's in case of a population emergency, or so someone can temporarily shift their reproductive organs to be the counterparts to their partners'." She smiles. "In fact, it's that genetic trait that allows Erskine's serum to work at all. If his DNA didn't have a predisposition to self-edit, he wouldn't be able to... that's not important right now."

Bucky stares at Steve, shocked and annoyed and embarrassed all at once. "All merfolk can...? You've  _never_ mentioned this."

Steve shifts uncomfortably. "Your people have really... strict ideas. About staying the way you're born. There are humans that want to shift, or they're born part-shifted, and they're treated really badly." He looks at his lap. "Bruce only knows because he started noticing the tissue's capability to alter itself."

Annoyance turns to indignation. "You thought I wouldn't like it?"

"It was never relevant anyway!" Steve pushes his hair away from his eyes. "And what would it matter that I could lay eggs, when we aren't even the same species?"

"Oh no, Bucky could totally be your baby-daddy." Darcy laughs as they both turn to look at her. "Steve's a Ditto. You can pair him with anything. As long as there's an egg and some spunk and one of those two things are his, you're in business. Steve, how long does it take?"

Steve is studiously avoiding Bucky's eyes. "About... a week? Maybe as much as a month to shift  _and_ lay."

"So you can... shift for a few days? And lay eggs?" Bucky looks at Steve. "And laying doesn't hurt, right? And shifting to have new... new organs, that won't hurt?"

"No," Steve says quietly.

"So what're you worried about?"

Steve raises his hands in front of his chest. _You're thinking about me so much you're not thinking about the consequences. Children._

 _I know. Children._  Bucky doesn't notice as Jane pulls Bruce and Darcy back to slip out of the room.  _What? Will they be sick because their pod is too small?_

 _No. No._  Steve scowls.  _You just decide, yes? Be a parent?_

Bucky blinks and thinks about it.  _Is this why you've been acting strange?_

_I didn't know for sure you and I were compatible! If we weren't, I'd have to go to Asgard and stay there. Or find someone willing to mate with me and let me bring the children back here, where they'd never see them._

_You thought we might be ... we might... be able to make children... and you didn't want to check?_

_We can't be parents AND be part of the group._

"Yes we can." Bucky thinks quickly. "Thor leaves the planet all the time. Rhodey goes to work for the government. Natasha and Clint break bones or sprain ankles - nobody's upset when they take time off to heal."

Steve looks at him skeptically. "And you wouldn't feel bad, staying at home while everyone else left to fight?"

Bucky swallows. "We died once fighting for everyone. We're here again and we're still fighting. We don't owe any more. We deserve what we want."

"Right, you should have what you want,"Steve's emphatic, going back to gesticulating angrily.  _All the work you've done to keep us secret. You'd have to give it all up! Pretending I'm human. Pretending we're not a pair. Every time we go outside, you make sure nobody sees._

Bucky's hands freeze.

 _Yes,_  Steve continues.  _We can't hide children. We can't lie about children. We can't say they aren't ours. We couldn't make a child understand why we'd have to lie._

 _No,_  Bucky interjects quickly.  _We wouldn't do that to them._

_Right. So it can't work._

_No. No lying. Truth._

Steve stops.

 _You need to be well. I want you here. You want to be here. Your people can't be here. Children. Family. Good things. Worth giving things up for._  Bucky swallows.  _You. You are worth giving things up for._

Steve pauses. "You always talk about the media. About our image."

"I don't care."

"Yes you  _do_."

"Not enough to care  _now_ ," Bucky snaps. "Before, I just had to lie to people I didn't know. There was no real... sacrifice. If I have to choose between keeping up my image and having you better? And happy? And getting a  _family?_ I  _want_  a family, Steve, I want one with  _you_ , it's not the kind of thing a fella can just blab on about when he thinks it's impossible, but I  _do_ , and I'll make that trade.  _Any_  day, I'll make that trade."

Steve is turned away now, silent. Something occurs to Bucky suddenly, and he feels his heart sink.

"...do  _you_  want one?"

Steve laughs wetly, wiping at his face. "You kidding?" He sniffs. "It's all I've been able to think about since this started."


	14. 2015

The team reacts more or less unanimously.

"There's something called a godmother and a godfather," Clint says, one arm thrown around Steve's shoulders, "and you need to pick one very early. I'm a good candidate."

Pepper rolls her eyes, grinning. "I'll start working on a PR plan. Also, congratulations."

"Thanks, Miss Potts." Bucky smirks. "Hey, don't I get a cigar or something?"

"Not til they hatch," Sam corrects. "You gotta know this stuff, man! Fill Steve in on it. Also, hey, Steve, what should we be doing for your side?"

Steve looks over from the holo-screen Rhodey is calling in from. "My side?" He asks confusedly.

"You know, traditions to an expecting couple. And, hey, you can even get in on the champagne, at least... I guess as soon as you lay? How does that work?" Sam looks to Bruce and Jane.

Jane shares a look with Bruce. "We'll... get back to you on suggested diet restrictions. He probably knows better than we do."

Darcy scratches her chin. "What's the mer-equivalent of pickles and ice cream?"

Steve looks to Bucky with a clear expression of 'please help me understand some of this'.

**

**

"You're  _sure?_ " Bucky presses.

"Honestly, I’m…" Bruce smiles, tapping his finger against the edge of the table. "I’m happy to do it. Not exactly my wheelhouse, but Steve’s got enough background information that I think I can give you a good probability of success." His lips quirk a little further. "It’ll be nice to use science for something pleasant for once."

"You’re sure?" Bucky repeats. "I mean, you said he’d have to give you a sample to examine, and… listen, you know him, he’s got a different idea of normal. You can say if looking at your colleague’s spunk is gonna make things weird.”

"I’m going to analyze it to isolate whatever nutrient oil it provides that yours wouldn't. Then I synthesize it. Plus some human ovum scent for good measure. When he lays, we add the scent to the eggs, then and you … participate, and then we add the nutrient oil, and ta-da! The sperm know where to go and the ova have all the vitamins they need to grow."

"You're handling this really well."

Bruce smiles warmly. "I turn into an enormous green monster, Bucky. I can acclimate to just about anything if given enough time."

**

**

Bucky looks at the schedule edits on his tablet, frowning. "Okay. Pepper's suggested moving everything we can to  _before_  we make the announcement..."

"In case everyone hates us afterward?"

"In case the media throws a temporary shit fit," Bucky corrects smoothly. "So. The leukemia fundraiser in June, that can't get moved, but the VA thing is gonna be at the end of the month." He chews on his lip. "She also says we should quit lollygaggin' and get to the museums to pick up our stuff."

Steve quirks his lips. "Aren't most of 'my' belongings things Peggy and Howard planted so I'd have a backstory?"

"Yes, and you will need to pretend to recognize those things and remember them fondly."

"'These tiny shoes are mine,'" Steve says, pretending to practice. "'Because when I was smaller, I definitely had feet.'"

"And what were the feet attached to?" Bucky mock-quizzes.

"Shins. No no, ankles!" Steve smiles winningly.

Bucky laughs and leans over the edge of the water to kiss him. "Top marks, doll." He starts scrolling through the tablet again. "Sam's suggesting some Netflix binges during the week that you're shifting... that sounds like a good idea."

Steve hums in agreement. "Anything to keep me from getting stir-crazy in here. What's he suggesting?"

"Some Arnold Schwarzenegger movie I've never heard of. Junior."

Steve shrugs. "Whatever he picks is fine."

**

**

They pick out which of the many pools on their floor will be used for the hatching. Steve starts outlining the things they'll need to get; a very large rock, some formula, some easy-to-eat food for the first few weeks after they hatch.

Clint and Darcy get slightly addicted to YouTube videos of baby sharks emerging (or being cut out of) their strange, leathery shells. Pepper, more focused as always on the realistic details, puts most of her attention on getting the new rooms on the Rogers/Barnes floor ready in time, fully outfitted. Thor, who is apparently aware of some traditions even Steve has never heard of, starts getting some celebration gifts together that involve quite a lot of animal hides and pungent-smelling drinks to be brought over through the Bridge.

Jane and and Bruce begin brushing up on a mixture of prenatal, postpartum, and marine biology books to try and be ready for anything, and keep having polite but insistent debates over dinner on something to do with bone density and cartilage. Tony keeps coming up with new things that could be useful that don't technically exist yet.

**

**

"So it _is_ possible to just get one," Bruce summarizes hesitantly.

"I was just one," Steve points out. "But my mother wasn't very healthy."

"Whereas you are the paragon of aquatic health," Darcy reminds him. "How do we make sure you have a reasonable number?"

Steve clears his throat. "Um, Midgardian women... they don't ovulate again until the first egg is gone?" He waits for the nods. "Our women, every few weeks is another egg. Until it reaches somewhere between, I don't know, usually fifteen and twenty. And then she doesn't begin ovulating again until all those have been spent."

Bruce shrugs. "Regular checkups to count the number of eggs that have successfully passed through his equivalent of Fallopian tubes... not all that challenging, actually."

**

**

Bucky can see why they picked this girl to show them the collection; she's clearly not very senior, but her nervousness and awkward smiles would have calmed him and Steve down, had they been angry like the Smithsonian had expected.

"So, Sergeant Barnes, if you feel satisfied with what you've claimed back from the exhibit, we'll move on to Captain Rogers's belongings?"

"Sounds good," Bucky says, and navigates around a few large crates to follow the girl toward a collection of items laid out on yet another white-topped table. Immediately, his eyes lock on a metal tin on the left.

"These are some of your schoolbooks," Ms. Rankin is saying, "recovered and donated by Ms. Peggy Carter. These are your... Captain Rogers?"

"Does that have anything in it?" Steve asks quietly, pointing.

"Um, no," Ms. Rankin says. "But it did! We - we didn't lose them. The tokens are actually, um." She dashes forward and pulls out something like a briefcase from a shelf in the table, setting it on the surface and opening it slowly. "There's a lot of silver in here, which tarnishes easily, so when they're not on display we tend to put it all in a specialized container that prevents that, um, that process. From happening."

Bucky stares at the rings and necklaces. Old and worn in the corner - he has to stop himself from stepping forward - he sees Steve's old tool belt, the one with bone hooks and a shell cup, with several old earrings with hooks wrapped around themselves to keep them attached. The garnet pair Bucky had gotten Steve when they were nineteen still glimmers. Whatever modern 'historical preservation' is, it works.

"You called them tokens," Steve says slowly, rubbing his gloved fingers together before reaching out and picking up a small ring. It had fit him once, Bucky remembers. They'd been about thirteen.

"Tokens of affection," Ms. Rankin clarifies, tilting her head and clearly wondering what got lost in translation. "We were never able to match any particular piece to any particular woman, but some of the surviving Commandos went through the collection in the late 1970s and explained a lot of what we found. These were, um, given to you by women in the European Theater? For luck?"

"Yes," Bucky says almost too fast, watching as Steve turns the ring over and over, studying it. "Steve was, y'know. Popular with the dames."

"...I think I'd like to claim these back," Steve says distantly, and Ms. Rankin nods several times, scribbling something down on her clipboard.


	15. 2015

Steve braves the videos meant for expecting (human) mothers. They skip through most of the pregnancy and birth chapters, but even the sight of the newborns screaming and covered in fluids makes him shift in discomfort.

"They have to  _cut_ that?" Steve asks delicately, pointing. "The..."

"Umbilical cord," Darcy supplies, cracking her gum nonchalantly.

"Does it hurt it? Or the mother?"

"Nah."

Bucky reaches out and twines his fingers with Steve's. Steve doesn't look very soothed.

**

**

Tony gestures at the array of switches explained on the latest blueprint. "You can adjust how much water you want to pump through it, how fast, for how long."

"So I don't need to fan the eggs?" Steve guesses suspiciously, inspecting the pump.

"I mean, I can't deny you maternity leave, but if you're chained to the pool because you've got to be there for wiggling-next-to-the-clutch purposes... this kind of frees you, I figure."

Bucky squints at it. "But if it breaks," he says. Steve nods vigorously as if this is what he was thinking as well.

" _I'm_ making it," Tony says, actually sounding a bit injured.

"Maybe it can be a fallback," Natasha says judiciously. "If you're tired. To give you a break while you sleep."

"Hm," Steve says.

**

**

"I know I picked this rock out," Steve says slowly, tail swishing just enough to cause ripples at the surface.

"Buuuut?" Bucky eyes Steve's expression, and then the large rock - it's a boulder, really - that was so carefully selected and lowered into the bedroom pool. It was deemed sufficiently large, sufficiently gritty in texture, and of having sufficient bumps and enclaves.

Steve says nothing, left ear spines flicking irritably as he stares at it. Bucky takes a deep breath, sets his tablet down on the pillow beside him, and gets to his feet.

"We'll go pick out a new one."

"One with higher iron content," Steve says almost before Bucky's finished talking.

**

**

They get Steve up to speed on human children by helping Sam baby-sit his nieces and nephews. Steve's overwhelmed by the chaos of sound at first, but over time he realizes that there's no distress to the shouting. He smiles and play-wrestles, complimenting crayon sketches and agreeing that the superhero names they have picked out for themselves are very, very intimidating and cool.

There's no such equivalent for merchildren. For the first try, Bucky sits on the floor of the vet's office, five newborn pups in his lap sleepily nosing at his jeans and huffing out tiny snores, while he bottle-feeds another in his arms. They snuggle plenty but they sleep a lot. Steve, with his own armful, decides it wasn't the best species as an example. Not active enough.

The baby ducklings are better. They follow Bucky and Steve around the bird sanctuary on tiny determined feet, cluttering around them in a constantly-moving shape of fluff. They want to be held without being restricted, popping out of closing hands and then insisting on burrowing into the fabric of a t-shirt, or the crevice between arm and torso. Much more active. They cheep indignantly when they can't follow where Bucky and Steve are going, demanding assistance.

"So, no time to ourselves," Bucky summarizes wryly, lifting his arm a little so one of the babies can explore under his elbow. "According to my ma, that's not too different from us humans."

"Newborn humans cry if they're lonely. Newborn mers will  _follow_ you." Steve chuckles. His eyes are bright and he's more relaxed than Bucky's seen in weeks. He's excited.

**

**

Thor comes back from Asgard with news.

"Your people are very taken with the shores to the south. They say it has been several generations since they had the luxury of living so close to the surface, where the sun warms them." Thor smiles and claps Steve on the shoulder. "I daresay their leader would have even softened to you by now, if not for..."

"For what?" Bucky asks, intrigued.

Thor bites his lip, clearly holding back laughter. "In the casual meetings with the Asgardians, he has been asked many times if he had the honor of meeting you when he lived on Midgard. I think he is quite vexed that you are more renowned than he." As Steve and Bucky laugh, he looks around furtively, leaning in. "I have spoken with many of your people now - they say one particular fish from my home strongly resembles one from theirs. It was said to be particularly good for fattening up their young."

Steve's eyebrows raise, foot pointing in, interested. "Blue-green spines, short tail?"

Thor nods quickly, grinning and pulling something from his satchel. Steve stands up straighter and looks around.

"I thought we were supposed to be careful about... carrying living things back and forth across worlds?"

"If I neglect to remember to tell Lady Jane about this gift to you, it will be my own fault," Thor murmurs mischievously. In his hand is a wine pouch that probably does not have any wine in it. "I am told the eggs need cool water which moves swiftly. You can provide this?"

Steve, in a rare moment, hugs Thor.

**

**

Steve can't decide on exactly what food or how much will be needed, and there's no way of knowing for sure  _when_  it'll be needed, so it's a lucky thing Stark Tower is opulent enough to have a 50 gallon tank in the kitchen already. The usual lobsters are replaced with a seemingly random (but, Steve insists with what everyone else secretly titles "mother's intuition", very carefully selected) clams and small fish.

(Bucky sneaks the Asgardian eggs in to a lone tank and makes the chefs promise not to say anything.)

**

**

Tony flips his mask up and clears his throat, waiting until all the microphones and audio recorders are within reasonable range.

"Dr. Doom has been apprehended and is being sent to SHIELD to see justice," he says. "The Prime Minister has been rescued unharmed. The nuclear power plants are back online and the threat is over. Also, Captain America is a shape-shifting merman and is in a committed relationship with Sergeant Barnes."

He backs up, gives the nearest camera his signature wave before flipping his mask back down and jetting up to the Quinjet.

**

"You forgot to tell them about the eggs," Steve says on the way back to North America.

Tony shrugs nonchalantly. "It's human custom to wait until the first trimester's over to make any public declarations. I didn't want to be gauche."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are lifeblood. Lifeblood is word count.
> 
> <3.


	16. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra special thanks to zetsubonna, for helping me work out the initial idea for this chapter, and to blu and everyone in the stream for reassuring me that it made some amount of sense.
> 
> (Also thank you to everyone who's been commenting here, because that shit makes my day. <3)

Steve is saying Bucky's name quietly in the dark, shyly, until Bucky wakes up.

"Huh?" Bucky sits up gingerly, back tender from the tile of the pool room. "Stevie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Steve says quickly, embarrassed. "I just. I can't sleep."

Bucky lets out a grateful puff of air. "Okay. Okay. Jarvis, dim lights?" Jarvis accommodates, rising them just enough for Bucky to grope for his mask, pulling it on and getting out of his pajamas.

"I'm sorry," Steve mumbles, and Bucky laughs quietly and reaches out, pulling Steve closer to the edge so he can nuzzle their cheeks together through the metal.

It takes a little longer for Bucky to wake up enough to get into the water. It's warm and pleasant, shifting ever so slightly thanks to the pumps, and Steve is circling him gratefully, tail glittering a little in the light as they find a spot on the bottom with smooth rocks for Bucky to lie back on. Steve curls up on top of him, enjoying his warmth and making sure he doesn't accidentally float up.

Bucky nudges him back just enough to sign.  _Nervous about starting to shift tomorrow?_

_No._

_Why can't you sleep? Body or brain?_

Steve shrugs a little.  _Felt too far from you. Felt bad._

Bucky's mouth is covered, but it's obvious from his eyes that he's grinning.  _Nothing new for you._

Steve laughs and swats at him. Bucky grabs the hand and tugs it closer, hooking a leg around his tail to keep him there. Steve makes an unusual sound, the air bubbling out his mouth as he cants his head and wriggles closer.

Bucky signs a question with the hand that doesn't have Steve's. Steve doesn't answer, thoughtful, working it out. Finally he leans in and kisses Bucky's cheek at the seam of the mask.

They're too close to sign now; Bucky grazes his fingers along Steve's gills instead, tracing the ribs underneath and feeling Steve shiver. It's when Steve's mouth drifts lower, kissing along his neck, that something clicks in Bucky's mind... this is unusual. This is  _lust_. Bucky slips his hands lower to cup Steve's ass and draw him in a little closer, and Steve nods against his shoulder, undulating a little, warm and smooth against Bucky's naked skin and starting to get grabby. Steve seems frustrated that Bucky got in the water still wearing his boxer briefs, now trying to tug them down without having to give up any of the closeness, and Bucky's breath quickens behind his mask.

Steve trills low in his throat when he finally gets his hand around Bucky's thickening erection. His mouth feels searing hot against Bucky's throat, sucking insistently, teeth grazing, and finally Bucky hits his limit. He can't get enough air with this damn thing, or at least, that's how it feels in his head. He twists his hips jerkily in 'get off me' gesture. Steve misses it, too lost in himself, and Bucky groans when Steve's thumb starts dragging along the slit of his cock. Bucky makes himself put his hands between them and push. Steve backs up by an extra two feet, blinking heavily, tail sliding back and forth for balance and out of shock; he starts to sign something but Bucky's already kicking, swimming for the shallow end and pulling his mask off before he's even seated on the submerged stairs.

"I, I'm sorry," Steve says with a strangled voice. Bucky tosses the mask to the poolside before spreading his knees apart wide and gesturing him over.

"I can't breathe heavy underwater, I get claustrophobic or something, just," Bucky laughs weakly. "Get over here."

Steve's expression breaks into relief. He swims over, fitting himself in the space between Bucky's legs and nuzzling their cheeks together. "I just... want to," he murmurs wonderingly, hips already beginning to undulate again. "Is that okay? Is this strange?"

"You  _know_  I've always wanted to," Bucky mutters against his shoulder. "Like this. Every shape a'you." His hands grab Steve's ass again, now for leverage, keeping him on top and from slipping down into the water. "Is this gonna do it for you? Only half in the pool?"

"Don't care about the water. Want you close."

"Whatever you need, baby doll." Bucky finally steals the kiss he's been wanting, then another, smiling when Steve makes a quiet sound into his mouth and loops his arms around Bucky's neck. "Do you know? Should I guess?"

"I don't know. Anything," Steve says, and Bucky nods, taking his chin and nudging it to the side so he can lean forward and capture the edge of Steve's ear fin between his lips. Steve's body curls into itself a little at first, but when Bucky tries again more gently, just teasing along the edges, Steve's breathing gets more labored, loosening his grip on Bucky to give him more room. When Bucky nips  _very_  gently on a spine, Steve pulls in again, arms tight and moaning.

"So gorgeous like this," Bucky breathes, one hand roaming up and down to see if he can find any more spots. He's wanted something like this for so long. "God, you should hear yourself."

Steve's gentle whine devolves into a soft laugh, and he leans into the touches. "Feels good," he says, pouting, but his mouth falls open again when he feels knuckles grazing against the fin along his back. "Oh."

"Yeah?" Emboldened, Bucky hoists him up a little higher, tracing the spines one by one, groaning as Steve makes a small helpless sound and practically melts against him. "Love you. God, yeah, like that..." Steve rolls his hips into Bucky's again, shivering, and Bucky's cock, still half-trapped in his damn boxer briefs, is aching from it. Bucky licks his lips and bends down just enough to capture Steve's nipple in his mouth, guessing that if he likes this in his other form he'll likely enjoy it now.

" _Oh_ , yes there, yes there do that, don't sssss." Steve gasps for air as Bucky latches on and starts sucking, stopping to graze his teeth against the sensitive skin. Being held up this high means he can barely grind against Bucky now, so he whines softly, contorting himself to get as close as possible without dislodging Bucky's mouth. "Yes. Yes."

Bucky hums against Steve's pectoral, laving it with his tongue for a few moments before going back to suckling. He misses the importance of Steve's louder groan and continues, giving a muffled 'oof' when Steve's weight pushes him down, almost bending him backwards against the lip of the pool as Steve mounts and ruts against him. Bucky gasps for air and looks up at Steve's face - lost in it, open-mouthed - and can only spread his legs wider under the water, feeling the slick texture of the scales drawing back and forth on his inner thighs, on his cock through the material of his underwear. "C'mon," Bucky urges, and Steve nods, just barely present enough to hear him. "C'mon, doll, come for me."

Steve gasps and goes still, mouth hanging open as he spills over Bucky's lap. Bucky can feel it warm and sticky against his legs and hips but he doesn't dare move to sneak a look at it, because Steve looks like he's having some sort of spiritual experience in his own body and Bucky isn't going to risk dislodging him from it for anything. He just stares, fascinated, as Steve's brows come together and finally relax, body shaky as he lowers himself down to rest on top of Bucky.

"So pretty when you get off," Bucky murmurs, stroking the fine hairs at the nape of Steve's neck until the shivering slows down and stops. "Love you."

"Love you too," Steve breathes, and makes a quiet unhappy sound when Bucky starts to sit up.

"I'm getting a crick in my back," Bucky explains, but doesn't let Steve get off of him entirely; instead he scoots until he's seated at the edge of the pool with his feet firmly planted on the first step, bending down and hauling Steve on top of him again where they can lie flat. Steve laughs quietly and Bucky can hear a delighted splash from his tail in the water behind him.

"That was amazing," Steve says. His fingers drift downward towards Bucky's erection and he gives him a questioning look.

Bucky takes a breath and braves it. "Can I look at you?"

Steve looks confused at first, but then nods, leaning on his elbow and then resting on his side so Bucky can slide down and see him. The ridge of his sex is still raised, just barely protruding from the interlocking scales, and now that Bucky can see it close up he realizes that it doesn't look all that different from a clitoris, but larger. The barely-exposed nub of soft flesh looks tender and inviting and Bucky has to put considerable effort into keeping his hands to himself. There's a  _reason_  he hasn't seen this until now - Steve is shy and his body is... different, only exposing certain parts of him when they're in use.

Bucky doesn't realize he's started to stroke himself through his boxer briefs until Steve's voice breaks him out of his trance, breathy and quiet:

"You can touch it, but you. You have to be gentle."

Bucky suppresses an expression of shock. He can..?

"You can use your mouth, too," Steve says in a rush.

Bucky looks up wide-eyed. "I can--?"

"But you have to be really really gentle," Steve repeats. His face is practically glowing pink and his eyes are still dilated, like he might have another round or two in him. Bucky bites his lip and digs the heel of his hand against his cock.

"I'll be so careful," Bucky promises. He fumbles for a moment, wrestling out of his underwear before straddling Steve's tail and bending over his lap. There's still traces of semen that the water didn't quite wash away, and it looks... different, in a way he can't quite pin down, like the consistency isn't exactly like his. He breathes in the smell and starts to lick Steve clean, avoiding the hood for now and just focusing on the spots around his hipbones, lower, taking time along the little ridges and stroking himself in time with the sound of Steve's little gasps.

Glancing up again to check for a sign of hesitance, Bucky starts to nose closer to the hood, nuzzling and licking and stopping when Steve starts to writhe a little. He stays on that boundary, mouthing gently and being patient, waiting until Steve's breath changes from 'this is overwhelming' to 'I want more now'. Bucky lets go of himself and draws his forearms in to bracket Steve's hips and he noses closer, inhaling more of the scent of him and letting the tip of his cock drag against the lower part of Steve's tail to keep himself from going completely insane.

Steve makes a quiet whining sound. Bucky knows that one means 'I'm not sure what I want but I really want it', and he knows the feeling, knows he's wanted to get close to Steve like this for years without knowing or caring what the details were. He backs off a little, just enough to look at the ridge again, the soft flesh it's hiding, before deciding to press his tongue along the hood in slow strokes, lifting it up without touching dir-

" _Ohmygod_ ," Steve cries, hips arching off the floor and hands grabbing Bucky's hair, pulling him in closer and refusing to let him stop. Bucky breathes through his nose and keeps going, licking, finally getting enough leverage to mouth at it and suck as gently as he can. Steve is shouting. Bucky can feel himself coming hard but does his best to work through it, groaning against the cool scales, nose and lips and tongue pressing and nudging and moving with Steve when he writhes. He's about to try to tell Steve he needs to keep still when he feels that tensing underneath him, the one that means Steve's really about to lose it - Bucky gasps for a last breath of air before drawing his tongue up hard and slow, bottom to top, surprised when he feels a wet spurt in his mouth and then desperately lapping to capture it all. Steve is still shouting, hands having let him go now so he can scrabble at the ground, and Bucky just holds his hips and licks up the mess as quick as it comes.

**

"Is your back okay?"

Bucky doesn't open his eyes. "I don't care about my back," he murmurs earnestly.

He can feel Steve sitting up beside him, curling over his body to try and get a look. "You said I hurt it earlier. When I was on top of you. The stairs were digging into it?"

"Could be broken and I wouldn't care." Bucky reaches blindly for Steve's shoulder, tugging him back down to lay down with him on the floor. "S'fine. Everything's great."


	17. 2015

Shifting to lay eggs, day 3. Bucky gets up, stretching, and slides out of bed to go check the water. No movement - he's definitely still asleep. Bucky pulls on enough clothes to claim decency and walks to the kitchen to put some waffles together.

(Tony is there, but he's only one coffee in, so Bucky gives him the wordless nod to his vague grunt and leaves him be.)

No butter, but extra syrup. Extra napkins. Bucky puts the two plates on a tray, adds a mug of coffee and a glass of juice, and carries it back to the room.

Steve's still asleep. Bucky sets the tray down by the pool and rolls his pajama pants up enough to sit at the edge, splashing the water a little, grinning when the silhouette at the bottom starts to stretch and twirl in place.

"Hi," Steve says sleepily, barely coming up enough to talk.

"You're sleeping in a lot more'n you used to." Bucky nods toward the tray and Steve hmms in interest, lured closer by the smell.

"Feels like I worked out yesterday. And maybe ran across Italy a few times." Steve hoists himself up on his elbows, tugging his syrup-heavy plate closer and starting to cut into it. His tail fin curls upwards in pleasure at the first bite, peeking above the surface. Bucky smiles to himself and starts to eat.

**

Day 4. "Ocean sounds make human babies fall asleep," Steve reads aloud, amused.

Bucky looks up from his push-ups. "They do?"

Steve's mouth tilts upwards in amusement as he floats, looking up at the holo-page. "It reminds them of being in the womb, where it is apparently very noisy."

Bucky wipes his hair away from his face with one hand before resuming his routine. "I dunno where we're gonna find anything that sounds like waves," he says solemnly.

"Mm," Steve agrees. "Shame."

**

Day 4, afternoon. Sam gets comfortable in the chaise next to the water, pulling up a screen and typing in a URL.

"Is this going to be another male pregnancy movie?" Steve asks suspiciously.

"No. These are reactions to Tony's 'truth bomb'...  _This_  is the leading editorial on the Washington Post, written by some historian I've never heard of, saying that the ancient texts referring to Asgardians mentioned 'ocean men' too and that we should've seen your kind coming a mile away." He scoots that screen to the side, pulling up something else. "And  _this_  is what's trending on Twitter."

Bucky stares at a photoshopped image of a tropical fish next to a barn. Underneath is the text I WANT TO BELIEVE.

"I don't get it," Bucky says after a moment.

Steve tilts his head. "I think it's an X-Files reference?"

Sam points. "This is the youth's response to you two coming out. Some people are still saying it's a prank by Tony, but most people are deciding Steve must be an alien sorta like Thor and that you two would be cute together." He taps the text in the air. "They want it to be real."

Steve swims a little closer to the pool's edge, reaching out and gesturing for the editorial to come closer so he can read it. "And the historian? Does he like us too?"

"The historian doesn't seem to care whether or not you're a gay alien or just an alien, just... is annoyed that nobody else believed these things might happen someday. Visitors on Earth and stuff."

"I was born here," Steve sniffs. "I'm as native as you are."

"He gets very testy about this," Bucky stage-whispers, dodging only part of the water splashed at him.

**

Day 5. Steve's getting more stir-crazy than expected at being confined to the pool. Everyone takes shifts: Bucky talks with him, swims laps with him, and naps with his hand dipped in the pool, fingers twined with Steve's. Thor lounges in the chaise and tells him how his people are doing, trades stories, and before long he's picked up on the basics of shoulder-out, chin-tilted smiling to say 'keep talking, this is interesting'.

**

Day 6. Clint marathons some television shows with him. Natasha drops by and chats, occasionally helping him through some of the prenatal videos. When Pepper has time, she comes and does her laptop work by the poolside, providing silent company. Steve appreciates all of it.

**

Day 7. Bucky asks if Steve feels different. Steve says it's like the gentle ache of shifting drawn over hours and hours. Not painful, but never really leaving. Bucky puts his mask on and joins Steve in the water, fingers mapping out Steve's abdomen and hips in an effort to find every difference, every change. Steve takes the opportunity to curl around him and hold him there for a while.

**

Day 7, afternoon. Darcy's made a holo-bookmark collection of baby clothes from various websites.

"What's premie?" Steve asks, pointing to the word in the item description.

"Premature. Means they were born early, so they're smaller." Darcy gestures to the doll modeling the jacket. "I think even with Bucky's genes mooshing with yours, we're still gonna end up with some fairly little dudes."

"Just... don't buy any little pants yet, or anything," Steve's mouth forms an uncertain line.

Darcy waves her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about whether they'll be able to shift or not. You should see the latest sketches Tony's made. They're like otter tubes for the entire Tower!"

Bucky, lounging nearby, lifts up his head. "Does that man ever get time to actually do any R&D?"

"Are you kidding?" Darcy reaches for the holo-screen and pulls up Forbes. "He's patented like five different waterproof/waterproofing solutions in the last six months. Consider the stuff he does for you guys prototype practice."

Steve grins. "How do you think he's gonna market the multi-level otter tubes?"

"I don't think he's figured out how to monetize  _every_  single thing he makes for you two."

"I guess the waterproof drawing tablet thing is kinda... specific."

"Oh no, he used that durable touch-screen prototype for a new phone design." Darcy grins and cracks her gum.

**

Day 8, early morning. Bucky gets in the water and floats on his back waiting for Steve to wake up. He feels more than hears the swirling of the water underneath him, and finally, a large tail fin rises out of the water and covers his face.

Bucky laughs hard enough to lose his balance, sinking a little bit and wrestling Steve's upper body to the surface. "I was  _relaxing!_ "

"I'm done," Steve says, face bright and excited. "I can feel it. I'm done changing."

Bucky lets go of his shoulder. "You're not shifting any more?"

Steve shakes his head, the apples of his cheeks rising with his smile.

"So... eggs soon?"

Steve nods again.

**

Day 9. Bruce looks at the screen, then at his notes, then at the screen again. The hand holding the device against Steve's abdomen twitches.

"Steve, I see here you... you said it takes about two months? For a female who's beginning to grow eggs to fully...?"

"Two months," Steve confirms, frowning. "Sometimes longer if she's older. Up to two and a half months."

Bruce blinks repeatedly, spots Bucky's alarmed expression, and gestures to the indecipherable moving image on the screen. "I, um, it's possible I didn't sufficiently account for Erskine's serum and how drastically it might affect-"

"What's wrong?" Bucky barks.

"Now," Bruce says emphatically, gesturing at the screen and then at Steve's abdomen. "Two months my  _ass_ , it's one and a half days, it's now, it's now unless you want to wait longer and end up with octuplets or, or duodecaplets, quadecaplets, more, they're -  _plenty_  are fully developed! Get him in the pool!"


	18. 2015

Bruce pushes the gurney into the bedroom while Bucky holds the door for him.

"So," Bruce is saying, slightly calmer now, "Steve, Bucky, I will let you two take care of this on your own, but if you need anything, I'll be in the lab."

Steve sits up on his elbows, looking down into the bedroom pool, then at the rock.

" _Please_  tell me the rock's okay," Bucky pleads.

Steve nods, still looking at it, lost in thought. "Rock's fine. Everything's good."

"Okay." Bruce claps his hands together. "Just a phone call away. A Jarvis call away. Same thing. Jeez. Um. Good luck. Not that you need it." He escapes and shuts the door behind him; Bucky seems to be alone in noticing the last-minute nerves of the man, because Steve is still zoned out.

"Stevie?" He waves his hand. "Are we okay?"

"Everything's good," Steve repeats, blinking slowly. "Just. Trying to... summon up whatever part of me that knows how to do this."

"You can do this. You can absolutely do this." Bucky steps forward, nudging the gurney closer to the water so Steve can slip in more easily. "Your people do this all the time."

"All the time," Steve echoes.

Bucky goes to the mini fridge, getting his contribution and the serum Bruce cooked up and handing them to Steve. His face is difficult to read, but there's hesitation in there. Bucky takes a breath. "Like we talked about, I can help or I can stay up here."

"You won't... be upset," Steve tests, unsure.

"Go lay eggs and be weirdly territorial about them for a while. You warned me this might happen. Go do what you gotta do."

"Okay." Steve nods, taking a deep breath before dropping in and swimming to the bottom. Bucky's getting comfortable on the bed to wait when Steve comes back up quickly, looking frazzled. "I love you," Steve adds, and disappears again.

Bucky smiles to himself.

**

Things Bucky prepped the others about:

It's rude to ask how many children are expected. Eggs fail sometimes and women (or whoever lays, really) can be touchy if some don't make it, or if there were few eggs to begin with. Whatever number hatches successfully, everyone is expected to agree that that was the perfect number for that family.

There is no equivalent of sharing sonogram pictures. Even though Tony could probably make that happen, it's considered nosy. The entire process is overwhelmingly private until the children are born.

When they hatch, nobody will be allowed in. Imprinting may happen and if it does, it should only happen to Steve and Bucky. That means the first eight to ten hours are going to be video chat only.

When the others  _are_  allowed in, they are to bring in a very specific double-shot Starbucks order for Bucky spiked with whatever top shelf drink Tony thinks is appropriate. Same for Steve.

**

"Welcome back!" Sam says, arms wide. "To the world of the leggy."

Steve ducks his head and smiles, making a beeline to the couch and not hiding the fact that he more or less collapses on it. Natasha lifts her head up from her report, smiling a little.

"Everything go okay?" She asks, appropriately vague.

"Yes," Steve says, and takes a deep breath. "And now I don't have to shift into anything complicated like that for the rest of my life."

"Tail to legs, that's small fry stuff," Tony says in a ridiculous voice, earning a swat from Pepper. "Ovaries, though.  _Those_  things are tough."

"They  _are,_ " Steve agrees earnestly. "I still have... I don't know. Cramps come from the uterus, and I didn't have one of those, but I have something like cramps."

"As a human with a uterus, I permit you to call them cramps." Darcy does a gesture over Steve's head as if blessing him. "You wanna go out? Do a celebration dinner?"

" _Yes_ ," Steve enthuses, lighting up. Bucky swallows and looks to Pepper.

"Is that a good idea?" He asks. "Is it... I mean, are people still..."

Pepper shrugs. "The hysteria's mostly died down."

"Interesting word choice."

Pepper shoots Tony a look before continuing. "I can book a room at one of the nicer steakhouses and we won't be bothered. Or,  _you_ , if you'd prefer to make it a couples night."

Steve waves the idea away. "Everyone's invited. You've all helped keep my head on straight through all of this."

Natasha pulls her phone out. "I'll get Clint."

People start getting their coats. Bucky's pretty sure he's the only one noticing the gentle, warm smile that's crept up on Steve's face.

**

Jane takes pictures at dinner to show Thor when he gets back. Sam regales the table with the most ridiculous and endearing pregnancy/baby stories he knows from his family.

Steve looks at Bucky at one point. "It's really common for humans to crave weird things like that?" he asks, after a particularly long tale concerning the quest for some out-of-season Girl Scout cookies.

Bucky levels him a look. "You would not stop asking me to get you fatty tuna." Half the room explodes in laughter. Steve leans back haughtily.

"I  _always_  like that, though."

"Five meals in a row?"

"I ate other things too!"

"As snacks. In between the five meals of fatty tuna. In a row."

Bruce makes a cutting gesture to Bucky as if signalling him to give up; Steve is already making a show of ignoring Bucky, turning to Tony instead and talking to him.

**

"I missed cuddling," Steve says into Bucky's shoulder blade, feeling him shake with soft laughter.

"We  _water_ -cuddled," Bucky argues mildly, making a show of wriggling closer and leaning into the touch.

"Which I love. But this kind is so good, too." Steve hooks a leg over Bucky's and nuzzles the hair at the nape of his neck. "Soooo good."

Bucky's eyes drift closed. "Do you think you'll ever want to do, um,"

Steve makes a questioning sound but doesn't stop nuzzling. 

"The night before you started shifting," Bucky prompts, reluctant to spell it out, and Steve stops, nose pressed along the base of Bucky's skull.

"I dunno. I think so?" Steve's little huff of breath runs down Bucky's spine, making him shiver. "As long as I'm..."

"'The king of you'," Bucky supplies, pleased to bring up the ridiculous term that Steve has already voiced dislike for. He can feel Steve's annoyed squirm.

"Yes," Steve agrees reluctantly, then settles. "I don't know. I think so."

Bucky nods and reaches back to find Steve's hand, stroking it. "Was it okay?" They'd never really found time to talk about it, and while Bucky's not worried about how Steve felt in the moment, there's been enough stress in his life recently that he's maybe dedicated some time to worrying that Steve regretted it on other grounds. Who knows.

The hand under Bucky's slips away, only to reappear over his breastbone. "M'really glad we did it," Steve confesses quietly.

"Because I wanted it, or because you liked it?" Bucky presses.

"Because I  _loved_  it, dummy." Steve gently headbutts him from behind. "I'm exhausted right now, though. Not tonight."

"I'll put my tongue to use later, then," Bucky murmurs with a feigned air of calm, and is secretly pleased when he hears Steve's breath catch.

**

They give each other space for the next few days, needing some air, and after sneaking down during Steve's morning run to see the eggs, Bucky concedes that there's... nothing to see yet. The small enclave in the rock has little gelatinous lumps on the side, the color hard to discern, and even those are barely visible because of the careful structure of rocks blocking them off from the motions of the water. When they're big enough, Bucky knows, those little rocks will move out of the way so the eggs can get more oxygen. Then they will get even bigger, tough and leathery on the outside, and then Bucky thinks this will all probably start to feel even more real than it does now.

"I'm gonna be a dad," Bucky says over breakfast, trying out the words in his mouth. Natasha nods, agreeing, putting a rare hand on his between their plates.


	19. 2015

It's a few days later when Steve comes up to him shyly, weight on his heels like he's nervous. Bucky hits the pause button and tilts his head.

"This is stupid," Steve begins, and Bucky's interest is piqued.

"It isn't," he argues immediately. "What is it?"

"It's, um, because..." Steve takes a breath. "Remember how I'd tell you stories about my mother being a midwife? And how she'd take care of the women who were nervous?" He waits for Bucky's nod. "So, they used to worry about all sorts of things, about, about having bad numbers, or weak eggs, about picking the wrong spot, and there was this saying. 'It's fine. You'll need strong bracelets.'"

It's coming back to Bucky now. "Because they were gonna have so many," he finishes for him. "Grabbing on to her tail and her fins, she'd need to wear extra stuff so they could all hold on to her to fall asleep."

Steve looks extremely relieved. "Right," he says, and fumbles in his back pocket, wincing as if he's already regretting this. "So this, this is stupid, but."

Bucky gets off the couch and comes over, fascinated; gifts to him are few and far between, but they're always incredibly important. "Lemme see already!"

"They're just - they're not even valuable, I don't-"

"You know I don't care about that, c'mon,"

"This is silly and you don't even wear-"

"Did you get me bracelets?"

Steve blushes, opening his hand up to show several thin but strong leather cord bracelets. They're different shades of black and brown, adjustable, the kind worn by young men for the last decade or so. Bucky picks them up one by one, grinning.

"The ones for ladies would have little-"

"I love them," Bucky interrupts, fiddling with the first one to open it wider and slide it over his wrist. "C'mon, help me tighten it."

"You're sure? They're not, um, I mean,"

"Are you kidding? These're the only thing that could make me take my watch off. Actually, here. A kid can't hold onto a watch very easy, can they." Bucky's laughing to himself, touched, unclipping the watch and setting it on the bedstand. "No takebacks. I'm wearing these."

Steve bites his lip and blushes further, but Bucky can tell he's pleased by the reaction. Bucky holds his hands out in turn as Steve helps get them on. Three on the left, two on the right, and he's about to put on the last one when Bucky thinks of something and starts taking off his shoes.

"What're you doing?"

Bucky grins. "Might as well use my weird human feet for something useful. One of 'em can be an anklet."

"But human men don't usually wear-"

"Nobody'll see. And besides, I'm not about to give a shit."

Steve beams.

**

Tony draws up the blueprints for a portable and watertight ultrasound unit that can work through the shells, but even Bucky can't convince Steve to let it in the pool.

Steve  _does_  allow one camera to be set up a few meters away with an infrared. Jarvis monitors it 24/7 and, upon several requests, sets up a holo-screen in the common area next to the television. Darcy somehow manages to use a 'sticky note' feature in Tony's programming to make a sign below the video feed that reads #GUPPYWATCH2K15. Tony figures out how she did it but refuses to remove it.

**

Steve remarks that they're growing faster than he expected, even considering the perfect temperature of the water. One night before bed he asks Bucky to come down with him and move the fence of rocks out of the way. Bucky knows Steve can't tell his hands are shaking when they're underwater, but he's self-conscious anyway, staring at the eggs. He thinks he can count them, now that they're bigger, more defined.

Steve signs instructions and demonstrates how he can fan the eggs without having a tail of his own. Bucky mimics him, feeling silly but strangely at peace at the same time.

**

It's only a few days after that when Steve says he's calm enough that he feels comfortable with Bucky visiting them unaccompanied, or with letting others into the bedroom to see from up top.

After careful thought, Bucky brings Bruce in first, who just kneels down and squints down into the illuminated water, smiling, not saying a word.

**

The water pump is an acceptable alternative to fanning only if someone is in the room to hear if it shuts down. Or, as they learn when A.I.M. tries to sink half of New York City, if Darcy is brought in to keep an eye on it and text hourly to confirm it's still working.

(Darcy also sends camera phone pictures of the video feed. And of herself lounging poolside in an unnecessary pair of over-sized sunglasses.)

**

"They're still... little," Sam says finally, peering down into the water. "They're really almost ready?"

Bucky smiles, hand tracing lazy patterns over the surface. "Steve says it's normal for 'em to start smaller than ours do. Five or six pounds is healthy."

"I like that parental glow you have goin' on right now."

"Shuddup."

Sam smirks at him. "Do they kick like ours do? You know, toward the end?"

Bucky nods. "And then some. Less of the kicking, more of the... turning in place. Flipping upside down. Like they're trying to get comfy in there."

"Preparing for their jailbreak."

Bucky snickers.

**

They're enjoying dessert when Natasha puts her spoon down, a rare smile on her face. "Question," she says, smiling at Steve.

He looks up and tilts his head just so.

"Names?"

Steve just looks to Bucky, who grins. "We have come to an agreement," he says slowly, and Clint sits up straighter, interested. "We must both agree on the names. They must all be reasonable human names, but Steve also has supreme vetoing power." He begins counting off his fingers. "His ground rules include but are not limited to: no names which are places."

"Completely weird," Steve confirms.

"No names of people who are still alive," Bucky continues.

"Absolutely bizarre," Steve says.

"No names of people who have died and did not have  _good_  lives."

"Terrible luck. Why would anyone do that."

"No names of famous people we have never met."

"Delusional to do that."

Sam holds up a finger. "I feel this is all somewhat ironic considering one of the parents goes by  _Bucky_."

"Yes," Steve agrees.

"Which is short for James Buchanan, who was a  _president_ , who his mom  _definitely never met_."

"She didn't," Bucky confirms.

Sam looks to Natasha for a 'please agree with me that this is weird' moment. She merely shrugs and goes back to her ice cream.

**

**

"Oh my god,  _move over or I will end your life._ "

Looking a bit rattled, Clint steps out of Darcy's way, making room so she can see the screen. She's standing on tiptoe as if trying to see more angles of the two-dimensional feed. "Is it starting? Can we see anything?"

"We've been staring at their backs for the last minute and a half," Sam reports, arms crossed over his chest. "Bucky left for a minute, and then came back with some weighted bottles. That's it so far."

Darcy makes a pained sound. Every time she remembers the small, pint-sized little bottles they made specially for not floating to the surface of the pool, she's made that sound. "It's too cute. I'm going to die. Bruce, you're going to have to do something."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," Bruce says almost automatically, eyes locked on the feed. There's a flash of Steve's tail, as if it shot up in a surge of emotion, and then it's just their backs again. "Stark, why doesn't this camera move? Why did you install the worst CCTV camera in existence for this?"

Tony glares. "Do you know how many cameras Steve looked at and wouldn't let into the water? He was  _obsessed_ with the idea that they would fail and spark in the water. That model is in  _two cases_  of airtight-"

"Shh." Sam flaps his hand. "Look."

Bucky is crowding in next to Steve now, and is throwing his hand over his shoulder every couple of seconds in a strange motion.

"Shell bits, he's tossing shell bits out of the way oh my GOD this is really happening." _  
_

Jane reaches out and holds Darcy's hand to ground her a little. Darcy swallows and bounces on the balls of her feet.

"They both have  _really_  nice backs," Pepper comments, pretending not to notice when Tony shoots her a betrayed look.

"Arm," Clint says sharply, all of a sudden, and everyone struggles to spot it, but it's already gone. Bucky's no longer tossing shell pieces, though, and his arms are tight at his sides as if he's holding something. Steve, beside him, bends down further into the enclave and continues working.


	20. 2015

The team is in the middle of making breakfast when Jarvis chimes in. Rhodey, who flew in a few hours ago, abandons the toaster and jogs over to the screen where the rest are already huddling.

"Hi guys," Bucky is saying. He has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is in all directions but he looks about as happy as an exhausted person can possibly be. "Jarvis, pull out, get the whole pool."

The camera zooms out. Behind Bucky, Steve can be seen sprawled out on the top of the partially-submerged boulder. His tail is swishing lazily but it keeps getting tugged down at odd moments by something in the water. He might be asleep.

Bucky is holding something very small in his arms. "Um, is everyone here?"

"Yes," the room chimes, almost in unison.

"Okay. Good." He grins, glancing over his shoulder. "Steve's out for the count, I think... he chased them around in circles until they finally got tired enough to take a nap, um... this is, um," Bucky can't stop smiling. "This one's Pippin. Jarvis, zoom in."

Pippin is fast asleep, tiny mouth slightly parted. His tail, which is light blue and greenish to Steve's dark blue, is gently curled against Bucky's far bicep. He seems to have dark hair, although there isn't much yet. His chubbiness is reminiscent of any newborn human baby, but he is considerably smaller.

"Oh my god," Darcy whispers.

"Should we be quiet?" Pepper says quietly. "Are most - are they all sleeping?"

"Jarvis promised to level the audio so it doesn't get above a certain... loudness, or something. I don't know. I'm really tired." Bucky laughs. "Um, yeah, don't scream or anything, but I think they're fine. Rosie's awake, she's the one yankin' on Steve back there." He glances over his shoulder, to where Steve has rolled onto his side away from the camera, presumably asleep. Something is still tugging intermittently at his tail whenever it drifts into the water.

"Bucky, I have a very important question for you." Tony leans in. "Did Steve convince you to name all of your children after Tolkien characters?"

"No! No. Just... two." Bucky trails off a moment, distracted when Pippin wiggles a little in his sleep. The room goes silent as they watch him readjust the child in his arms, examining his face and getting lost in it for a second. Finally he seems to remember the video feed. "Um, Clara, Clara's named after my mom's mom. She's asleep on my ankle right now, I don't think I can pull her up without waking her."

"Clara's a great name," Jane says earnestly. "The other ones, too."

Quietly, in the back, Sam and Clint are signalling 'three or more' at each other and checking the betting pool. Natasha swats at them.

"Thanks. And... I'm not sure where Jasper is, I think he's hiding in the little enclave thing in the rock. I think I can..." Bucky looks down at something they can't see, then at Pippin. "I think I can get him to come over. Or maybe Rosie will come. I don't know, I can't move much without waking Clara up, so." Bucky readjusts Pippin again so he has a free hand, swishing the surface of the water in a little circle while he looks toward the bottom of the rock. Something outside his line of vision comes over instead, a reddish-pinkish blur that seems to latch on to the bracelet on his hand. "Oh.  _Hi_ , honey, I see you've decided to let Steve sleep."

Something bubbles under the water, and Bucky leans to the side, angling his hand so he can scoop it up without dislodging it from his bracelet. The baby has a messy tuft of dark hair and red scales, tiny hands clasped around the cord of the bracelet and eyes locked on Bucky's with a questioning stare. He smiles back at her. "This is Rosie," Bucky says, not looking away from her. "She's the biggest."

"She looks strong and healthy," Thor says approvingly.

"Yeah, she's strong alright. Can you look at the screen, sweetie? See all those faces?" Bucky jerks his chin forward, but Rosie is making insistent grabbing gestures at him, bracelet forgotten now. Bucky sighs in resignation and readjusts yet again to do something to make Pippin's scales 'fluff out' slightly before setting him down in the water. Uncaring, he floats and drifts somewhat out of frame. "Hi, baby girl. Hi." He holds her up with both hands and then lowers her down, smiling when she makes a pleased burbling sound. "It's really weird, guys. They're not like any newborn I've ever seen before."

"She's more like a preverbal toddler," Bruce says, leaning forward in interest. "Steve really wasn't kidding. And their motor skills?"

"Um, as we suspected. Super clumsy, but, I mean, they're kids, so." Bucky holds Rosie against his chest, letting her bury her face in his neck. She tucks her small hands against her chest and seems to settle down a little. "But they can swim. I mean, they're not turning on a dime or anything, but they can absolutely swim."

"So it's four, right?" Pepper says delicately.

"Yeah! Four! Sorry, yeah, it's four. Rosie's biggest and then Jasper and then ... Clara is a little bigger'n Pippin, I think. Both their sets of lungs all work, you know, um, mouth and nose and then gills, so they um, they seem like healthy kids." Bucky laughs softly. "I'm so fucking tired, you guys."

"You seem happy," Natasha says.

"I am  _really_ , really happy. We got..." He glances over his shoulder as if double-checking that Steve is asleep, then turns back to the screen. "Four out of four," he mouths. "So, it's, it's really good. They all drank the - Bruce, the stuff you made with the whale fat, that formula is really popular over here, they love it."

"I'm glad to hear that." Bruce's voice is a little strangled, like he's maybe trying not to get emotional. Thor, next to him, claps an arm around his shoulder.

"We thank you for the opportunity to see your new family," Thor says. "We should let you rest. Please tell us when we may come by? With the drinks you have specified, of course."

"You can... um... Jarvis, help me out here, I don't even know what day it is anymore." Bucky blinks as a holo-timer appears slightly to his left. "Six hours? Six hours and imprinting should definitely be over. Is six hours good? Is that in the middle of the night or something?"

"It's ten to nine in the morning," Pepper says gently.

"Oh. Oh, then that's not late, good. Okay. I think I'm gonna try to sleep before then, I've, um, I've been doing a lot of cardio, not a lotta sleeping. Um." Bucky laughs as Rosie squirms in his arms, suddenly intent on being let go. "I, um, I love you guys, and I'll see you tomorrow. I mean, later today."

"Sleep," Tony instructs.

**

Pepper won the betting pool.

**

Bruce leads the small army of well-wishers, one hand pulling along a rolling cooler full of seafood while Jane dutifully carries the coffee tray. Tony gestures for Jarvis's silent knock feature and waits. When the the green light flashes, Thor opens the door for everyone, silently ushering them in and grinning the whole time.

The Barnes/Rogers bedroom is something of a mess. There are always a few piles of clothes littered around the edge of the pool, but now there are also empty half-pint formula bottles, towels of various sizes, half-drunk water bottles, and a holo-whiteboard with names crossed out and circled that they appear to have forgotten to 'swipe' away.

Steve is in the pool, half-submerged, and Bucky is sitting at the water's edge kicking his feet out very gently while someone underwater chases after them. "Hi guys," Steve says, looking decently rested and very ... at peace, maybe. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's totally fine," Jane says, and picks over the debris to lean down and offer him a drink. Steve makes a quiet grateful sound and picks his out. Bucky is caught up in whatever game he's playing, and Jane has to nudge him with her foot a little to get him to notice her.

"Oh! Oh. Sorry. Thanks." He takes his drink.

"I think  _Bucky's_  imprinting now," Steve says casually, "so everyone please give him a bit of room."

"Shut it," Bucky says lovingly.

Steve turns back to the others and grins, gesturing them to come a bit closer. "Sorry we don't have chairs or anything. You saw Rosie and Pip?"

"Yes," Darcy says, almost too quickly.

"Okay. Jasper is... I'll get Jasper." Steve drops under the water, tail flashing for a moment as he kicks down lower and gathers something into his arms. When he resurfaces, a worried-looking baby is burying his face against Steve's bicep.

"Awww," Sam says. "What's he so scared of?"

"He's just shy, I think." Steve turns him around a little so they can see him - darker blue scales, and a floppy sort of tuft of brownish hair. "Jasper, see your aunts and uncles?"

Jasper definitely does. His eyes are well-focused, glancing at the group before he buries his face in Steve's arm again.

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Putting Jasper down now." He places him in the water, where he immediately disappears. "Bucky, you got Clara over there?"

"Clara's behind you," Bucky says, amused. Steve blinks and turns in place, laughing and plucking something out of the water. Blue scales, faint wisps of blonde hair, and definitely on the smaller side. "This is Clara," Steve introduces proudly.

"She's perfect," Pepper says.

"I'm going to  _die_ ," Darcy hisses to Bruce.

"You'll make it," Bruce encourages. Then, to Steve, "I brought more formula plus some oysters. The kitchen already shelled them. Do you want any of this now or should I put it in the mini-fridge?"

Steve grins. "The fridge, please, but give one formula bottle to Darcy."

Darcy makes a very quiet but very high-pitched sound. Clint laughs and nudges her forward until she takes the bottle.

"Rosie?" Bucky suggests.

"Yeah. Darcy, just go sit by Bucky and splish the water next to him."

"Splish?" She goes obediently and sits down, staring at the blur making figure-eights around Bucky's feet.

Bucky leans forward a little and taps his fingers against the water, drawing the blur's attention and finally making her head poke out. She's smiling a little, swimming closer to the edge and sticking her arms out.

"Darcy's gonna pick you up," Bucky says to her, nudging Darcy with his elbow.

"I am? I am. I totally am." Darcy sets the bottle down next to her, sticking her arms out slowly to see if Rosie's going to pitch a fit or something. Rosie seems confused at first, but after staring at Darcy she seems to decide she'll be an appropriate substitute, moving a little closer and allowing Darcy to pull her out of the water and into her arms.

Bucky visibly realizes that the baby is going to drip all over her clothes. "I can wrap her in a towel if you-"

"No, no, I don't care, oh my god, she's beautiful." Darcy stares at her, fumbling for and finally finding the bottle again. "Guys, her eyes are blue. They're so  _cute_. Bucky she's  _precious_."

Steve shares a pleased look with Bruce.

"Heyyyy there," Sam singsongs, kneeling down to the water where Pippin has poked his head out to investigate what's going on. "Nice seein' you again."

Pippin eyes him critically, moving on to the others more or less in turn. Finally he backs up a little, bottom half wiggling side to side as he goes to see what Steve's doing. Steve strokes his hair as he passes by, appears to change his mind, and finally turns around to come back again.

"No wonder the videos of newborns baffled you," Pepper remarks. "You saw them squirming and stuck in one place and you must've thought they were sick."

"Not sick, exactly, just... it's sort of alarming, when you're used to healthy gups moving around and looking at faces and, you know. Maybe nibbling on some coral when you forget to keep an eye on 'em." Steve scoops Pippin up and holds him in the air, looking up at him. "What do you think, buddy? You seem like the relaxed one in the clutch. Wanna let someone else feed you for a change?"

Pippin, uncomprehending, just wiggles until his tail swats lightly at Steve's chin. Steve laughs and looks over to Bucky and Darcy. "Everything going okay over there?"

Bucky makes a show of leaning over to see. He gently reaches over and adjusts the angle of the bottle as Darcy holds it, then shrugs. "We seem to be okay."

Darcy's staring at the tiny chubby hands that are trying to hold onto the bottle as Rosie drinks. "We are  _awesome_."


	21. 2015

Bruce hangs around, waiting until the others have trickled out. As Bucky climbs out to finally get a real shower, Bruce gestures for him to come over.

"Any sign yet?" Bruce asks quietly, tilting his head.

Bucky shrugs. "We haven't tried putting them on land yet or anything. They're too new."

"Of course not," Bruce agrees. "I just meant, have you seen anything telling. Their scales fading for a moment, their tail seeming to shift."

"No." Bucky looks at the pool. Toward the bottom, he can see a larger shape being orbited by four smaller ones. "If they can do what Steve does, I don't see any reason they'd ... try now. And if it turns out they can't, I don't.... I don't care, you know?"

"We'd make it work," Bruce agrees firmly.

"Yeah." Bucky nods. "I know you wanna get samples,"

"Just swab their mouths," Bruce interjects.

"Right. DNA check. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after that. Steve's still in his..." Bucky gestures to his temple. "...protective mode."

"I understand." Bruce looks past Bucky, into the water, smiling a little. "They're really something."

"You're tellin' me."

**

"Four," Tony declares, pushing the elevator button for one of his lesser-known labs and guiding Natasha, Clint, and Pepper in. "Even number. Excellent news. Helps with the strollers."

"Remember, we still don't know for sure that they'll shift." Pepper gives him a meaningful look.

"Acknowledged. But even if they don't, we can still burrito them up and fit 'em in. I designed some adjustable double-seaters. None made yet, but we've got time before Steve'll let them out of the Tower anyway." He swipes the door open and walks in, beginning to rummage immediately.

Clint looks around. "Looks more like the Duggar's storage room than a lab," he remarks.

Tony waves a hand dismissively. "Thanks to cultural norms preventing me from knowing how many to plan for, I wisely over-prepared. We'll pick out the stuff we need and, Pepper, you can--?"

"Donate the rest, yes." She picks up a pile of bibs. "Tony, I told you I'd take care of clothing and blankets."

"Yes, but I saw those while I was looking at different types of rockers and they are  _fucking adorable_. Look, they have little octopuses on them."

Pepper smiles to herself and admires the design.

"Let's focus on getting the newborn gear out of here and worry about the rest later," Natasha suggests. "Everything non-legs."

"Yes, non-leggy, I made piles. Hold on." Tony steps over a stack of books to get to the other side of the room.

" _Sam_ was getting books," Pepper says wryly.

"I found couple books. Not too many books. We'll donate if there are doubles." Tony starts pulling plastic sheets off of something that turns out to be a crib. "Clint, I only assembled one of these... if I stuff the other three and all the bedding into this one, can you take it up and--?"

"On it," Clint says, and begins helping him load it up.

Pepper leans in closer to Natasha. "Honestly, the fact that we had to do this semi-privately so as to not bring up the question of quantity was..." She tilts her hand side to side. "I think a blessing and a curse."

Natasha lifts one eyebrow, looking over at something to her left. "I think Tony made a mobile," she says quietly.

Pepper cants her head, pausing. "I think that  _is_  a mobile," she agrees wonderingly.

**

"Steve, I love you."

"I love you too," Steve says absently, and then stops. "Wait. What's wrong?"

Bucky kisses his shoulder. "You stink."

Steve blinks and looks down at himself. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I've been relying on swimming for the last..."

"Two and a half days," Bucky fills in, kissing his shoulder again. "I'll watch 'em. Go get clean."

Steve nods, then hesitates, looking down at the water. Beneath his tail a small shadow is swimming around in little loops.

Bucky pokes him. "I'll be here."

"Right."

"Watching them."

"Right."

"I've got lots of formula."

"Right."

"Get out of the  _pool_ , dollface."

"Right. Right."

**

In the baby room, Natasha pulls one of the tank tops out the pile to be put in the drawer, tilting her head at it. "These are custom," she remarks.

Pepper nods. "Darcy found someone to sew them. The backs are really low to make room for fins, and they're long enough to keep them, you know,  _decent_. In case of legs."

Natasha nods and refolds it, taking the stack and placing them in the dresser. "Did anyone  _not_  go overboard?"

On the ladder where he's installing the mobile, Clint grunts. "Binkies and setup. I got twenty binkies, I'm setting up."

"Twenty's not overboard," Pepper agrees. "Hell, I think my brother went through a dozen with his firstborn in the first few months. Those things fell into another dimension or something."

Rhodey comes in, carrying what looks like an antique rocking chair. "Where should I put this?"

"Corner by the window, Rhodey, thank you." Pepper smiles. "Who else is Tony sending up?"

"Bruce and Jane and Darcy are off the hook for science reasons. Sam is bringing up two changing tables and I think Darcy is bringing down things from your closet."

"The blankets, yes, good." Pepper snaps her fingers. "Did I put the diaper covers in the closet too? Jarvis, tell Darcy to look for diaper covers and pull them out before bringing it all down."

"Of course, Ms. Potts."

Clint tucks the screwdriver into his pocket, frowning. "It's installed and plugged in but there are literally no buttons to turn it on."

Jarvis chimes in again: "I will handle that, Agent Barton." The mobile begins to turn slowly, casting soft blue and turquoise shapes against the wall. Rhodey blinks and leans to turn the lights off, making Pepper clap excitedly when the colors come into starker contrast. Soft sounds begin to rise up and fall again, like waves from far away.

"Very appropriate," Natasha compliments.

**

 _They won't let go_ , Bucky signs.

Steve shrugs.  _Then my bracelets were a good gift._

 _I need to get a nap._  Bucky can't quite sign 'nap' all the way because Jasper is clutching the cord on his left hand.  _Ridiculous problem._

 _Sleep down here?_ Steve suggests.  _No way to take them off without waking them up. Making them sad._

 _Can't do that,_  Bucky signs seriously.

 _Right._  Steve looks at Clara, who is still milling around in a drifting sort of circle, and encourages her to latch on to his arm fin.  _Let's all try to sleep._

Bucky nods, gesturing over to a spot with smooth rocks where Steve can curl up on top of him. He takes a few steadying breaths through his mask, trying to test if he can be comfortable enough using it to actually relax and do something as vulnerable as sleep.

At his ankle, he can feel Rosie gripping him tighter and snuggling in as closely as possible.

Bucky hooks one arm under his head and stretches out, lightly pressing against Steve's warmth. He falls asleep without realizing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone sending compliments and encouragement. It means a lot to me that people are enjoying this weirdness! :D


	22. 2015

"I mean, they're infinitely more active than a human newborn, but the caloric intake is still something I-" Bruce stops, looking down as Jasper burps contentedly in Bucky's arms. "That was fast."

Bucky takes the empty bottle and sets it down beside him, hiking Jasper up higher to rub his back. "I wasn't kidding, doc, they're  _hungry_  li'l things."

"It's normal," Steve says calmly.

Bruce nods. "So if Steve is aware of this, I'm unsure what the question is."

"Bucky just needs to hear it from a doctor, I think." Steve looks to Bucky and smiles patiently, maybe relieved that for once he's not the 'overprotective' one.

"Well, I mean." Bruce bites his lip, reaching in the air and pulling up some holo-screens: the custom recipe for the formula, the average weight of the four babies, and then, after some hesitation, a rough estimate of the distance of forty laps of the bedroom pool and resulting calories burned. "Yeah, it's... Bucky, I understand your hesitation with how much whale fat is in these bottles, but you also need to take into account that they're constantly in water and so they're losing heat... I think Steve's right. Just keep feeding them."

"They won't get indigestion or something?" Bucky's brows come together. "Or, I don't know..."

"They're fine," Steve says gently. "They're healthy little gups."

"They've also got a lot of growing to do," Bruce adds, grabbing a tissue from the table before leaning in and wiping some drool from Bucky's shirt. "Darcy was smart with those premie clothes. They're slated for some incredible physical promise in the upcoming months."

Bucky nods. He looks down at where his hand covers so much of Jasper's back. (Jasper, asleep now and completely unaware, proceeds to re-drool the spot Bruce just cleaned.) "But we can check their, um, their blood sugar and things. Their cholesterol. Maybe twice a month or so?"

"Like clockwork," Bruce promises.

**

Both things are fine. The guppies won't stop eating and won't stop moving; they're usually in the wading pool when they're being babysat, but when Steve or Bucky's minding them, they're in the deep pool, zooming around and chasing each other and laughing underwater when they get 'chased'.

**

Pepper manages to snap a really cute picture of Rhodey holding Clara before he has to fly back to Washington. He's holding her on the couch, angling the bottle just so, talking to her quietly while she looks at him with huge blue eyes.

**

"They love the mobile, by the way." Steve smiles gratefully as he lays Rosie down in her crib, tugging the blanket up over her.

Tony shrugs. "I didn't design it." Standing over Pippin's crib, he watches as the baby's hands reach out insistently toward him, and finally relents to put his finger within grabbing distance. Pippin captures it and laughs delightedly. "I was researching  _strollers_. Jarvis started accumulating research on ocean relaxation and soothing colors and I don't know what else. I just put the thing into production. Oh. And I added the Easter eggs." Tony snaps his fingers, looking up at the ceiling. On cue, a school of fish are projected onto the far wall, hurrying from one side to the other.

Steve blinks and looks up at the ceiling. "Jarvis?"

"I merely noticed that nobody had been assigned such an item," Jarvis says smoothly. "If the personal storage rooms are any indication, Mr. Stark was very fond of his childhood mobile, which featured a variety of-"

"Yes, thank you Jarvis, I'll remember not to out you ever again, shut up please now thank you."

**

Steve frowns. "Why... are you doing that?"

Sam looks up, the keys in his right hand going still. "Doing what?"

"Shaking your keys. Above Clara."

"Babies like jingles, man." Sam jingles the keys again, and after some deliberation on Clara's part she finally starts reaching up toward them, trying to see if she can grab.

"I mean, they're kind of shiny, but-" Steve's cut off when Clara giggles quietly to herself and leans up as much as she can in Sam's lap, trying to catch them in earnest now. "Huh."

"I guess there's no jingles underwater." Sam dangles them just out of reach, moving them just enough out of the way that he can snatch up one of Clara's hands and press some butterfly kisses to it. Clara coos. " _Some_  of our weird human stuff works, I promise."

Steve nods. "Fine with me. But I've seen people on television tossing their kids, and that's still completely off limits."

"You really think someone in this tower would  _drop_  your kid?"

"Off limits," Steve repeats.

**

 _Like this_ , Steve signs, and spins rapidly in place. Rosie, still holding tight to his back fin, lets out a delighted squeal that's mostly lost to the bubbles.

Bucky frowns.  _Can't copy that_ , he signs, but tries anyway. Using his right leg, he kicks to turn himself. It's not nearly as fast or impressive, but Pippin seems happy anyway, grinning widely and burrowing further into Bucky's tank top.

 _Good try._  Steve smiles as Jasper scoots over, finding a spot on his back fin to claim. He spins again, and again, and then Clara's coming over too, grabbing on.

_They won't get ... sick? From going too fast?_

_No._  Steve beams.  _Try again!_

 _You're better,_ Bucky insists.  _Spinning is your job now._

Steve laughs.

**

"What? Oh, no, little miss, I don't hold babies. Delicate things. No warranties. Buckaroo, get over here and-"

"You take 'er,' Bucky interrupts, adjusting Rosie and Jasper. "I'm full up."

Tony looks back down at Clara and her outstretched hands. Sensing that she's not getting picked up like she wants, a line forms between her tiny brows, and her lower lip starts to quiver. Tony panics, leaning down over the crib and taking her tiny hands in his. "No, hey, don't - don't do that. The thing. You don't need to do that." 

"You've held nuclear bombs, Stark." Bucky shoots him a look from the track he's making in the carpet, bouncing the two in his arms. "You can handle her. C'mon, if one of 'em starts they're gonna set each other off again."

"Nuclear bombs, yes, that's..." Tony swallows and digs his fingertips gently underneath her back, making sure he has a good grip on her before lifting her out of the crib and holding her against his chest, resting her tiny chin against his shoulder.

Bucky loops around once more, slowing down by Pippin's crib to make sure he's still asleep. "See? You're fine. You might want to get a little towel in case she..."

"What, spits up crab all over me?"

"Or just drools, yeah." Bucky jerks his chin toward the linen closet and Tony goes there, picking one out and carefully arranging it between his shoulder and the tiny little girl who does not want to be separated from his shoulder. Without warning, a tiny hand reaches up and clasps around the neckline of his Henley.

"You're very small," Tony informs her, quietly. "You are ridiculously small. They're not feeding you. I'm calling social services."

"That your version of sweet talk?"

Tony shoots Bucky a glare and sidles over to the rocking chair in the corner, lowering down as slowly as possible. "Are we cool?" He asks her, softer. "I can't see your lip anymore, but I'm going to operate under the assumption that it's not doing that sad pouty thing anymore."

Clara mumbles softly against the fabric of his shirt and pulls her other hand in so she can suck her thumb.

"Okay, good."


	23. 1933 - 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 23 is brief, but very sparkly.

"How'd you get that?"

The little boy holds up his arm, frowning at it. "It's just from the net," he says, sounding annoyed that Bucky noticed it. "It's nothing."

"It's a giant bruise," Bucky corrects, squinting at the colors. "I didn't get you with the knife, did I?"

"No." The boy looks away like he's disinterested, but when Bucky takes a hesitant step closer, he's looking at him again, like he's just as fascinated by Bucky as Bucky is in him. "Do you stare like that at everything?"

"You don't have any  _legs_ ," Bucky points out, crossing his arms. "You're a... a mermaid, or something."

"I'm not a girl!" His tail rises up and smacks the surface of the water, making a loud sound. "I'm just... I'm just  _small_. It's not like  _you're_  that big, anyway."

Bucky hmphs. "Well, at least I don't get stuck in stuff."

"I would've gotten out on my own," the boy huffs. "I didn't need you to help me."

Bucky pauses. "Sure," he says finally. "Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

**

**

As promised, Bucky brings whatever he could scrounge up from the kitchen - a few crackers, which the boy originally thinks are some sort of mean prank, and then some chicken that's already gone cold. He apologizes for it but the boy doesn't seem to mind.

" _Way_  better than those dumb square things," he compliments, seeming to lose some of his bristle as he gets distracted with the idea of a delicious new food.

Bucky tugs at his sweater and kneels down by the water, trying not to get his shoes wet. "Say your name again?"

The boy chews, swallows, and makes a long sound. It's four syllables and absolutely impossible.

"How do you do that?"

"Human throats are weird," the boy explains patiently. "You choke on water easy and there's a bunch of sounds you can't make."

Bucky crosses his arms. "Well, do you have a nickname?"

The boy makes another sound, which sounds exactly the same but with the second syllable missing.

"That's hardly any shorter!"

"Tell me  _your_  full name again," the boy says, eyes narrowing.

"James Buchanan Barnes."

"So where d'you get off telling someone that their name is too long?"

"I told you, just call me  _Bucky_. All my friends call me  _Bucky_."

The boy's expression falters, like that was something very unusual to say.

**

**

"It was beautiful," Steve says, knobbly elbows pushing against the sand so he can look at Bucky's face. "Big towers and things. Sort of like your city, but, but not sticking out on land, and no cars. And instead of a big forest in the middle we had reefs."

"So why'd you leave?"

"People came to kill us all."

"Why?"

"They were killing  _everyone_." Steve looks down at his tail, then out to the shoreline, further. "What're those people you were talking about? The ones across the sea."

"Huh?"

"The ones who think they're so great. Beating up on everyone else because they think they're special."

"The krauts," Bucky says.

"Yeah." Steve sighs and falls back, tiny chest rising and falling with the breath. "From the way my mom tells it, it was kind of the same thing."

**

**

When it's late and Bucky can't fall asleep, he thinks about what the future could be like.

He imagines having grown tall and strong, living in a nice apartment. He's still in Brooklyn, home, but the apartment is by the water, where Steve can visit. Steve isn't sick anymore, having grown out of it, grown stronger, but still with the same mop of silky blond hair, the same narrow chest, the mouth that Bucky can't quite work out. It looks like a girl's, so it shouldn't suit him, he's sure of that, but there's a lot about Steve's face that makes Bucky's insides twist in a way he hasn't quite figured out yet. In the future, when he has the apartment, he won't have any of those confusing feelings anymore. Steve will visit at night when it's safe and they'll talk until the sun comes up.

**

**

"Well,  _my_  people say your people are ignorant," Steve says. "You don't know about any other worlds and you think everything wants to kill you."

"The second part's not true," Bucky defends.

"You just said sirens sing to lure men to their deaths."

"That's just a story."

"That's  _all_  of your stories."

"No. There's also..." Bucky bites his lip. "...fairy godmothers."

"What are those?"

"They're like small humans with wings. And they have magic wands, and they make your dreams come true."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do they make your dreams come true? What do you trade them?" Steve looks confused.

"You don't give them anything. They just show up when you need help."

Steve frowns. "That doesn't make any sense to me."

Bucky shrugs. "They're in a lot of stories."

Steve quirks his lips, considering it. "Well, what would you ask for?"

"They're not  _real_."

"I know they're not real. They make no sense. Besides, how would a human fly?" Steve nudges him. "I asked what you  _would_  ask for."

"Um." Bucky thinks of the apartment by the water, and of the late-night talks. Something in his mind tells him not to say it out loud. "I'd ask for Marla Blackburn to be my best girl."

"Oh," Steve says oddly, and then, "what's a best girl?"

"You  _know_. You go dancin' and you hold hands and, you know, share a malt. And you beat the snot outta any guy who tries to flirt with her."

Steve nods in understanding. "And jewelry, obviously."

"I mean, I guess." 

**

**

 _Hello_ , Steve signs, very slowly. Bucky frowns, holding his hands out, then getting up to move until he's next to Steve and can see the sign from 'his' angle.  _Hello_ , Steve signs again, cheeks pink for some reason.

 _Hello_ , Bucky signs back.

 _Goodbye_ , Steve signs.

 _Leaving_ , Bucky signs by accident.

"No, no, don't separate your hands so much at the end."

"Why not?"

"It changes the meaning."

"What?  _Why?_ "

Steve shrugs. "Because... like how if you shape your mouth wrong, tooth is teeth. And they don't mean the same thing."

"So I said two goodbyes?"

"No. Bad example. Forget it. Just try again." Steve takes a breath, waiting until Bucky's watching him.  _Goodbye._

_Goodbye._

"Good!"

"Really?"

"Yeah."  _Good_.

"I know that one!" Bucky grins triumphantly. "That means 'tasty'."

"...what?"

"When I ask you how the food is but you don't want to stop eating it yet, you sign that." Bucky mimes eating a slice of something with one hand and signing with the other. Steve laughs.

**

**

Steve's tail is curled around his body in a sort of spiral shape - Bucky has never seen this before. With careful hands, he unfolds the handkerchief and reveals the knife.

"It's stainless steel," Bucky says immediately. "So it won't rust. You can replace the shell knife you have and maybe, um, have an easier time... cutting fish..." He trails off, baffled by the sudden change in Steve's expression. "It  _will_  rust?"

Steve's eyelashes flutter as he struggles to maintain composure. Bucky doesn't understand what all of it means, what the ear fins are doing, or what Steve's tail is doing  _now_ , but his eyes look desperately sad, and Bucky doesn't know why.

"Is it bad to give someone a knife?" he asks suddenly. "Do we have to fight now or something?"

" _No_ ," Steve manages, letting the handkerchief fall to the sand as he attaches it to his belt. "It's very. It's very thoughtful. Thank you."

"What'd I do wrong?" Bucky presses.

"I thought it was something else, I was. I was being silly. Forget it. I'm gonna." Steve swallows and turns, back fin pressed lowered and tight against his back as he looks out over the water. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Bucky watches, confounded, as Steve swims deeper into the ocean and finally disappears into it. He picks up his best handkerchief from the ground, wipes the sand off, and folds it before putting it into his pocket.

**

He tries to make it to his room without seeing anyone and fails.

"A girl turn you down, darling?" His mom's voice is gentle. "Don't look so glum. She doesn't know what she's missing."

"It  _wasn't_  a-"

Something dawns on Bucky and he nearly trips over the rug running into his room.

**

Shiny. It's supposed to be shiny. It's dark underwater and anything that reflects light and makes it even more beautiful is important. That's all it's supposed to do. It's supposed to be beautiful. That's what Steve had said last week, when Bucky had explained malt shops and Steve had explained courting. It's supposed to be shiny and unambiguously a present, something that doesn't do anything but show a - a  _gesture_ , he'd called it -

He hears the door open and shut as his mom and sisters leave for the department store. He doesn't have a whole lot of time.

Running to the kitchen, he digs out the good silver that they only use on Christmas. There's so many things in here nobody will notice if one goes missing. Just one of the littler spoons, something tiny used for serving sugar cubes or something, and if he's fast he can hammer it out into a better shape and shine it up before anyone's the wiser.

**

**

**

Bucky walks by Darcy, stops, blinks, and turns around to look over her shoulder. "Is that the jewelry site?"

"It's an everything site," Darcy corrects. "Handmade things."

Bucky stares, then pokes at one of the featured items at the top. "Click that."

"Touching computer screens. So old. You are  _so old_." Darcy sighs and clicks the link, reading the title aloud. "Silver Spoon Jewelry: Sterling Bracelet. Handmade."

"Son of a  _bitch!_ "

"Uh. $29.99 plus S&H."

" _Fuck!_ "

Steve pokes his head out of the kitchen. "What's going on?"

"Some asshole stole my god-damned courting gift idea!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 to everyone who leaves feedback. You are the clams on my otter-belly.


	24. 2015

"Why're you smilin' like that?"

Steve's gaze tears away from the other side of the room to look at Bucky, head tilted. "Like what?"

Bucky jerks his chin at Clint. "Like Barton hung the damn moon."

"He's  _signing to the babies_ ," Steve says, gesturing to them. "It's great, isn't it?"

Smirking, Bucky looks back to Clint. "You look like you're getting sweet on every damn person that bonds with our guppies. Am I gonna have to keep an eye on you?"

"It just makes me happy," Steve explains patiently. "It doesn't make him a  _prospect_ , it makes him... like a brother, or a cousin."

Bucky squints. "You sure?"

Steve's expression turns sly. "Are you  _jealous_ , Mr. Barnes?"

" _No._ Just, y'know, I gotta wonder when you're looking at some fella with stars in your eyes. It's normal to ask."

"You were glowering at me when Bruce was walking Rosie around, too. I think you're-"

"This coming from the guy who went into a two-day mope after I taught Nat the Lindy Hop!"

"I did not  _mope_ for  _two days_ ," Steve defends energetically.

"It was two days, and you were spending so much time in the water I had to ply you out with eel and ear rubs."

Steve tosses his hair, as much as can be done with his length, and looks away.

"Aw, don't be like that."

"You were throwing her around and over your shoulder and having a  _ball_ ," Steve mutters.

"That's how the dance goes!"

Steve says nothing.

"I  _tried_  to teach you. Erskine couldn't fix two left fins and neither can I."

Steve's eyes narrow.

"Aww, babydoll. You know you're my best guy." Bucky sits on the extra space on the lounger, leaning into him as Steve makes a point of leaning away. "You see me having quadruplets with anybody else?" He nuzzles in. "I don't care you can't dance."

It's clearly still a sore topic. Steve's arms remain crossed.

"Guys," Clint shouts, from the other side of the room. "How do you sign 'give it back'?"

**

**

Clara lets out another peal of distress, wriggling in Pepper's arms.

"Wet towel," Steve determines, going to the sink and preparing one. "She's fine, she just feels a little uncomfortable if she's out in the dry air for too long."

"I'm so sorry. This didn't happen in the pool room," Pepper transfers her over to Bucky, who kisses her forehead until Steve comes back and wraps her up. Almost immediately, she quiets down, eyes fluttering shut when Bucky begins to bounce her slowly in his arms.

"The pool room's got a different humidity setting," Tony explains gently. "To make it oceany."

"It's very oceany in there," Steve compliments.

Bucky looks down at the baby in his arms. "I'd give 'er back to you, but I think the water would ruin your blouse..."

"It's fine. I can admire her from here." Pepper leans in a little, using one careful fingertip to move a wisp of hair out of her face. "She's already falling asleep. Bucky, she adores you."

"She's my girl," Bucky singsongs.

The elevator opens, and Clint rushes in with an armful of baby. "I tried walking around, I tried singing, I tried swaddling him, I tried everything, he won't stop crying."

"He's dried out," Steve says.

"He's also not crying," Bucky adds, frowning and looking at the bundle in Clint's arms.

"--what?" Clint looks down into his arms, where Pippin is looking up at him from the blanket wrappings with mild interest. "Did you just wanna be in the same room as dad and dad?"

"Did he poop?" Darcy suggests.

"He's..." Steve comes closer, shoulders risen and pushed back. Bucky, now also alarmed, holds Clara tighter and walks over. Steve is nudging the blanket away. "Oh my god."

The color drains out of Clint's face, and he goes very still. "What'd I do?"

"He's not dried out anymore," Steve murmurs.

"So he  _peed_ ," Darcy deducts.

"No, he ... his scales are..." Steve takes Pippin, slowly unwrapping him and staring at him. Bucky's mouth drops open.

Pippin, looking very human and very nonplussed, wriggles in Steve's arm and reaches for his face.

Pepper leans against the wall. "Jarvis," she says faintly, "tell Bruce they can shift."

**

They can't seem to get Pippin to do the trick again. It's not until a few days later in the lab when Steve plays a very strategic game of 'copy me' that begins with windmill arms and ends in legs that he finally does it for long enough for Bruce to scan him and get some hard data, and then Rosie, who Bucky is carrying and realizes that if she does it too, she might also get attention.

"Asgardian human hybrids," Bruce says, looking at the readouts. "I doubt they'll be using them much when their original forms are more conducive to movement, but they do have them, and they seem perfectly healthy."

Steve lets out a breath. "Thank you," he says.

"Thank Erskine. He was an absolute genius... I couldn't replicate this if I had ten years." Bruce gestures to the holo-screens, moving them into a folder. "Bucky, I think your human genetics play a significant role in their secondary form, so don't expect them to lift any cars when they grow up."

"Fine with me," Bucky mutters. "Four is enough of a handful. Four super-gups would probably kill me."

"Super-gups?" Jane echoes.

Bucky shrugs.

"Asgardians don't generally become... superhuman, shall we say... until what, Jane, around puberty?"

"Right," Jane agrees.

Bruce nods. "So no matter what, you've got a good chance at a solid ten years of average strength and speed."

"You hear that, sweetheart?" Bucky kisses the top of Rosie's head. "There's no outrunning naptime."

"Bpph."

"Exactly."


	25. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> 1\. Continued love to everyone who hits kudos or leaves a comment or [sends me a nice message](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/ask). I liiiive for that ish.  
> 2\. Speaking of what I live for? [Blu's](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/114030404065/might-have-a-tinyfish-problem-not-sure-tho) [art](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/114028250605/current-reason-for-timeout-biting). ANDDD, [unexpected art from others](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3572540/chapters/7871903). How cool is this stuff? <3_<3 If you like any of it, please be sure to let the artist(s) know!

"Jamie Sterling, Washington Post. Why is neither Captain America nor Sergeant Barnes here at the incident?"

"Because we couldn't get a babysitter on such short notice," Tony says into the microphone. "They just had four kids. We can't leave that many newborns with just Bruce. We love him too much to do that to him."

Tony flips up the mask of his Iron Man suit, waves, and jets off.

**

"Saw you on the news," Steve says sleepily, not looking up from his spot on the couch. Three out of four guppies are asleep on his chest.

"Yeah? See the part where Clint roundhouse-kicked a terrorist into an oncoming car?"

"No, but I think Bucky said something about it." Steve pets at the babies absently. "Nice PR work, though."

"Happy to handle it." Tony moves to leave the common room, then stops. "You know you're one short, right?"

"Huh?" Steve looks at his chest, then blinks. "Buck?"

"What?" Bucky calls from the patio.

"You got Clara?"

"Yup."

Steve nods in satisfaction. "We're good. I appreciate the headcount though."

"That's what geniuses do." Tony strolls out. 

**

**

Steve's not sure if they like being swaddled so much because they're partially human or because  _any_  merchild would, if given the unusual opportunity. Pippin pretty much lives in the sling Steve wears when he's in the Tower, shifting when he gets uncomfortable. Jasper, if given the opportunity, will tug any towel abandoned near enough to the edge of the pool into the water and spin himself into a messy lump of terrycloth. Clara prefers to be both swaddled  _and_  rocked, which Bucky insists is the start of a path to high maintenance.

(He says this as he rocks her in his arms, speaking quietly so as to not wake her up.)

**

**

Clara realizes very quickly that even the  _threat_  of crying tends to get people to move at incredible speeds for her. Steve seems more or less immune for some reason, Bucky perhaps a little, but the other men of the house seem to panic at the idea of making the smallest and most delicate of the children upset, and will rush to get her more formula, a fresh towel, or perhaps most often a walking tour of the Tower. Clint and Sam will sometimes take shifts with her, talking to her quietly or just stroking her hair as she looks around and examines everything with a careful sort of stare.

While she can induce panic very easily, she also becomes very well-known for her delighted giggle.

**

Rosie adores Darcy and nobody's really sure why. Darcy does not walk the gups around the Tower, bouncing them, humming, like Sam does. She doesn't talk to them in a soothing, booming voice while letting them grab her fingers and gnaw on them, like Thor does.

(This is a particular favorite of Rosie's, since she is always happiest with a smiling face in front of her, someone to coo at and listen to.)

She just holds Rosie on her hip as she wanders around doing various tasks, wraps her up in a blanket and holds her to her chest tightly enough that she can still manage a laptop on her knees and a solid thirty minutes of simulations and analysis. Sometimes Darcy will talk to herself, working out the details of an errant data point, and when Rosie babbles back in sleepy nonsense Darcy will always thank her for her input and stroke her hair. That's enough.

**

Steve says Pippin is a child of a larger clutch. He's not needy, very independent for his age by human standards, and is agreeable to just about whatever giant changes need to happen. When babysitting time with Lady Sif is interrupted because of a security alert in Maine that requires all hands, Pippin does not mind that Jarvis and DUM-E are the new pinch-hitters. By the time Jane makes it up to their floor Pippin has already fallen asleep against the play house, uncaring, drool smeared endearingly across his cheek.

**

Bucky jokes that Jasper would be colicky if he weren't so shy. He doesn't  _like_  making noise - he wants to be around people and be 'involved' as possible, but is also easily overwhelmed by too many people. They find that Bruce and Jane are a good match, working quietly in the lab and keeping his carrier within reach, playing with him for brief, manageable periods before returning to their work. When he's a little older and can handle loud noises better, Steve even brings him to visit Tony's lab. That time is always supervised, and Tony always turns down the music for as long as Jasper's there. Jasper, in turn, looks appropriately awed by every single project Tony shows him.

**

**

The pool room is a great place to babysit without invading anybody's bedroom. The wading pool becomes very popular since it's only about knee deep for an adult, and thus easy to step in and scoop up anyone that needs scooping.

"Rwa," Rosie complains, smacking the surface of the water and dropping backwards until she's lying down. Pepper suppresses the urge to leap in and grab her - she is completely fine, air bubbles rising up to the surface every so often.

Sam shakes her head. "I don't know how long it's gonna take not to panic when I see a kid's head go underwater," he says, and she nods in agreement.

"We'll manage," Pepper assures him. "I mean, we still need to get them if they're shifted, right?"

Sam laughs. "You didn't hear about this? Steve, paranoid father of the year,  _dropped Clara into the bedroom pool_  when she was leggy just to make sure they all knew to change when they realized they couldn't breathe. She swam right up and  _glowered_  at him, but yeah. Instant fish."

Pepper's eyebrows rise. "Good survival instinct."

"I'm sure he would've dove right in if she didn't come right back up, it's just funny to hear, you know?"

"This  _is_  the same man that still doesn't trust us to get a xenobiologist to replace Bruce."

"Honestly, I don't think Bruce minds." Sam reaches out and lets Pippin grab his finger, grinning when Pippin smiles gleefully and submerges it. "The hardest parts are over. Now he's just got adorable kids coming into his lab every so often for blood tests. Steve hauls 'em outta there like a pro before they even know to get indignant."

" _That_  is getting marketed," Pepper says suddenly, remembering. "I have to send in the patent for that. He called it a micro... hemo... something."

"Does uncle Tony love you?" Sam asks Pippin rhetorically, tugging his finger so Pippin gets hauled up too. "Does uncle Tony invent stuff just for you? Huh?"

Pippin seems to realize he's supposed to respond in some way, so he leans forward very slowly, finally ducking down to gnaw toothlessly on Sam's hand.

"He knows he's loved," Sam says to Pepper, who laughs.

**

**

 _Nap_ , Clint signs.

 _No_ , Pippin signs back.

"Does he not understand?" Darcy asks, frowning.

"Oh no," Clint mutters. "He understands."

**

**

Thor visits when he can, and when there's no work to be done he tends to offer to look after the children.

"They raise the spirits," he says, following Bucky to the baby room. "I regret having not seen them for almost a month now. Have they grown well?"

"They've definitely grown," Bucky says evasively, opening the door and revealing a room of chaos. Toys litter the floor, wet towels are piled in an almost comically huge pile overflowing from the hamper, and Rosie, who has shifted and is running around in a long tank top, immediately toward Thor, becomes unable to stop, and crashes into his leg.

"Ohff," she sputters, tumbling down.

"Greetings, little one." Thor kneels down. "Are you hurt?"

Rosie looks up at him, calculating, before finally sticking her arms out so quickly she nearly pokes him in the eye. He laughs and picks her up.

"They have learned to make the most of their second shapes, I see."

"Rosie has. Jasper's getting there. Pippin can but he's not interested in trying, most of the time, but look out for him anyway, he likes to roll under things to disappear and scare the living hell outta you." Bucky smacks his arm. "I'll go check the fridge and see if we have that bacon you like. I owe you a good sandwich at least."

**

 _More_ , Rosie signs very messily, and Clint puts another piece of trout in her bowl. She burbles happily and grabs it, swallowing it whole and smiling like it's the best thing she's ever had.

_Thirsty?_

Rosie shakes her head and squirms in Sam's lap, tail smacking his shins.

"You're making her rowdy," Sam chides.

"She's fine," Clint replies calmly.  _More?_

Rosie shakes her head again, now looking at the floor and leaning to the side as if to reach it. Sam adjusts his hold on her sides.

"I think we're done with snack time," Clint says. "Okay. Go find Natasha and trade her for Jasper."

"Jasper's gonna pretend he's not hungry," Sam warns.

"Oh, I know. Bring 'im anyway."

**

Bucky and Steve, grateful for the break, stretch further across the bed and yawn. Bucky snuffles his way to the nape of Steve's neck, taking a deep breath before huffing it out and falling asleep again.


	26. 2015

Steve stops in the doorway and makes an astonished sound - Bucky peers over his shoulder and looks at the dresser drawers on the floor, pulled out.

"That's normal," Bucky says.

"Why did he  _do_  this?" Steve kneels down and picks Pippin up. Pippin, for his part, doesn't seem bothered by his father's bewilderment. He kicks his feet out a few times before grabbing one and putting it in his mouth. "Does it mean he's angry?"

"It means he's a baby." Bucky starts picking up the shirts and folding them back up so they can go back in the drawers. "My sisters used to do this all the time. It doesn't mean anything, they just like to get into stuff."

"We were gone for  _ten seconds_."

"It's the human in him. He makes the most of those ten seconds."

Steve starts carrying Pippin around the bedroom, looking for more signs of vandalism. "Do the others know about this kind of stuff? Should we text Darcy?"

"Every reasonable human knows about this, I promise."

"Bwff." Pippin lets go of his foot to grab one of the buttons on Steve's shirt, giggling to himself.

"You're an agent of destruction," Steve says to him. "You get it from your father's side."

Pippin doesn't seem overly concerned.

**

**

Sam stares for a few more seconds, then turns to Bucky. “This  _isn’t_  normal,” he says gently.

Bucky is still looking at the state of the kitchen floor. “You think I don’t know that?”

A couple minutes behind them after getting held up by Clint, Steve starts to put his bags down, taking off his shoes and finally noticing the two unmoving figures in front of the kitchen. “…everything okay over there?”

“This might be a fish thing,” Sam says in a low voice, unsuccessfully dodging a smack. “Um, Steve, c’mere and see this.”

Steve jogs over and looks over their shoulders, concerned look breaking into a smile. “I guess this is what Clint meant when he said Kate lost track of them for a minute but didn’t have the heart to move ‘em.”

Sam points. “Is this a thing?”

“A thing?” Steve frowns. “I mean, they found comfortable places to sleep, and I guess they got tuckered out pulling everything down… Bucky says making the mess is normal for human young, so-”

“Kids  _bash pots and pans together_ , Stevie, they don’t curl up in the big stewpot and take a nap.”

Bucky squints at Pippin and Clara, who have managed to fit in the same large pot and are asleep, mouths open slightly. Nearby, Jasper has found a home in a high-walled Pyrex dish. “It is… really cute, actually.”

Steve frowns. “I’m confused. We’re supposed to be worrying that they’re not making a bunch of noise with them?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sam says.

Steve considers this. “Nope,” he says finally. “Not worrying about that.”

“So does that mean I can make ‘dinner’ jokes?”

“No,” Bucky growls.

**

**

Tony spots DUM-E moving through the lab holding a small bottle of water from the mini-fridge to find he's placing it next to Pippin, who is napping in one of the cubbies meant to house pipe fittings. Rosie prefers the shelves of the pantry until she discovers that she can pull a throw pillow from the couch, lean it against the wall, and nap under there. (Clara spots her doing this and learns to whine until Rosie makes a second lean-to for her every time.) Jasper joins in on this sometimes, but can also occasionally be found in the linen closet. (The door is always slightly ajar, which is a convenient giveaway.)

Jarvis is always able to report where anyone and everyone in the Tower is down to the square foot, but Bucky's insistent that Steve learn how to hunt down his own gups in a land environment because a day's going to come when they visit somewhere new and Jarvis won't be able to help them cheat.

It's one afternoon when Thor comes running because Jane is screaming - she's holding her chest and pointing to what appears to be a twelve-pack of soda.

"He scared the  _daylights_  out of me," she breathes, and Thor kneels down to see that Pippin is in the back of the fridge, uncurling, head pillowed by his abandoned pants and tail flicking in irritation at having been woken so suddenly.

"They can live in some of the deepest parts of an ocean," Thor says gently, moving the drinks aside and scooping him out. "See? He is unharmed." He takes one of Pippin's hands between thumb and forefinger to show that there is no discoloration. "Young one, are you well?"

Pippin deigns to provide an unimpressed frown and then curls up again, clearly not done sleeping.

**

**

"Where's Rosie?"

Rosie laughs delightedly and lifts her tail fin up again, hiding her face behind it.

Sam opens his mouth wide in an expression of shock, looking all around the room. "Where's Rosie?"

Rosie laughs louder.

**

**

"Daddy," Jasper mumbles, reaching for Bucky's outstretched hands.

"That's right," Bucky whispers after a pause, smiling. "Daddy."

Jasper doesn't say anymore that afternoon. Bucky, under Steve's direction, doesn't push it. Just glows for the rest of the day and kisses the top of Jasper's head even more than usual.

**

"He doesn't wanna stress 'em out," Bucky confides, petting Clara's hair as she snuggles up on his chest and picks at the buttons on his shirt. "Apparently they're not as built for talking as we are. Wears on them, especially when they're little."

Sam tilts his head. "They lose their voice faster?"

Bucky nods. "So no big fuss. Just let 'em say things when they want to."

"Jasper said 'daddy', though?"

"'Abby," Clara echoes quietly, before gumming curiously at a shirt button. Bucky freezes.

**

**

Pippin mostly just says 'no'. Rosie tends to stick with 'hi' and 'snack'.

**

**

Tony's cradling a crying Pippin, looking put out.

"Normally I'd say 'sorry for making your baby cry, please don't punch me in the face,' but I spent five minutes trying to cajole him off my lab shelf  _without_  making him kicking up a fuss, and no go. I've bounced him. I've walked a track. I've made faces that were ridiculous and would be an insult to my dignity if I had any left. I think he's just mad he's not still napping curled up in a piece of scrap metal anymore." 

Bucky frowns and takes Pippin, using his thumbs to wipe the tears away and examine him. "How high up was the shelf?"

"About shoulder-height. Jarvis, quit letting him in there."

"He gets very insistent, sir."

"It's a  _safety_  issue!"

"Well, sir,  _you_  are permitted in the labs."

Tony glares at the ceiling, offended.


	27. 2015

"When are we going to see the alleged four children?"

Bucky looks at the microphone held in front of him, then the reporter. "As far from now as I can manage it," he says. "Pick me apart all you want. But leave my kids alone."

"How will you ensure they live a normal life?"

"Normal's a shitty goal. I'm gonna give them a  _good_  life." He knocks the microphone away. "Now get lost. Please. You're blocking the EMTs."

**

**

Tony holds up the fork. "This?"

 _Eating tool_ , Rosie signs slowly, since there's no specific word for it in what's been dubbed 'MSL'.

Tony nods. "Can you say it out loud?"

Rosie's brows come together. "Ff. For'?"

" _Dinglehopper_ ," Tony corrects.

"Steve will drop you off the side of the tower," Pepper remarks neutrally.

Tony sighs. "Okay, yes. Fork. Good job."

**

**

The Howling Commandos picked up on signs like  _unknown human object_  and  _attack_  and  _stay down_  and  _I will go first_. They blended in with the official signals everyone else had learned in Basic.

Everyone in the Tower learns  _snack_  and  _nap_  and  _please_  and  _toy_  and  _pool_  and  _good job_. Jarvis learns the fastest and translates when necessary. Bucky learns that some of the traits he'd attributed to Steve personally were more general to his people; the gups are full of energy but get tired of talking verbally after a while, not wired for it, switching to signals even when out of the water and throwing in the occasional ad-hoc phrase like  _small yellow fish snack_  or verbally saying "teevee" since it's short and easy.

When Pepper finally,  _finally_  cajoles Steve into allowing specialists into the mix, Steve sits the speech therapist down and explains that he's met human children and they're chatterboxes and that's  _fine_ , but he begs her to please keep an open mind when she examines his children. She turns out to be very understanding and gives them lots of breaks, letting Bucky translate when Pippin gets bored with the word games and signs his answers instead. When she sends the email with the eval details saying they're fine, Steve practically melts into the couch and lets out a sigh of relief that Bucky never knew he was holding.

The pediatrician has way more struggles ahead of him, including a solid five minutes of staring at an X-ray of Jasper's two sets of lungs. Bruce catches him up as much as possible, apologizing several times for being a layman in this field. When the doctor finally meets Rosie, he checks her reflexes, her heartbeat, and is about to ask her to watch his pen as he moves it side to side when she gets impatient and shifts, holding her tail up to her chest like a favorite stuffed toy and asking Steve "pool, please?".

The doctor drops the pen.

**

Another clean bill of health. The pediatrician says he sees no reason to suspect that any of the four have the same lung troubles Steve described having as a child. He'd like to study Steve's digestive system to see how it processes mercury so efficiently; Bucky's amused to note that the email mentions it would be  _Steve's_ liver several times, at length, showing the man is completely aware of how asking to do this with the gups would be at his own peril.

"It could lead to some helpful stuff for us humans," Bucky explains, shrugging. "Up to you if you wanna be a guinea pig, though."

Steve squints at the email. "He was very good with Clara when she started fussing," he says, clearly working up to a decision. "I guess if he's going to be kept on as the kids' doctor I should... submit to a few... what's an MRI again? It's like a scan, right?"

**  
**

"Can you throw it back to me?" Steve asks, holding his hands out about a foot and a half away from where Jasper's holding the baseball. Jasper is looking at the distance between them as if it is a canyon. His hands clutch the ball tightly, reluctant to give the object back when he only just got it. "No? You don't have to."

"Mmf," Jasper mumbles, and looks away shyly.

A few minutes later, when Jasper has crawled away to examine the xylophone, Rosie scoots over to the baseball and examines it. After an experimental hug and then and light 'bap' to see if it's a drum, she pushes it, rolling it over to where Steve is helping Pippin with the blocks.

" _Ahhh_ ," Rosie declares, after the ball goes ignored for several seconds. "Ball."

"Oh, do you want this back?" Steve smiles and nudges it back over, laughing when she throws her whole body into catching it. "Careful, don't lose it again."

Rosie does. She leans back very carefully before giving the ball another inarticulate thwack, sending it back over into Steve's thigh. It nudges him harmlessly.

Steve looks over again. "Rosie?"

"Ball," Rosie explains stubbornly.

Steve blinks and glances over at Jasper, still at the xylophone, then to Rosie. "Okay, ball," he agrees, and rolls it back to her again.

**

Little League's a long way off, but she becomes a master of rolling, and adequately good, if a bit over-enthusiastic, about the two-handed over-hand toss.

**

**

The Wakandan Embassy in NYC has a private garden area completely surrounded by the elegant brick building. It's a good introduction to the out-of-doors; Jasper grabs excitedly at some flowers before realizing, to his horror, that he can 'break' them. He approaches the next flower bed with much more caution.

"I've got, um." Clint rubs his nose and looks to Natasha, who nods as if she is signing off on something. "I've got a safehouse that's, um. It's a farm?"

Steve tilts his head. "A farm," he echoes, looking to Bucky to see if that can mean anything other than what he thinks.

Clint shrugs. "If you're looking for some sunshine away from the paparazzi, it could be okay." He's got that neutral look that means he's making a concerted effort not to appear sappy.

"That'd be great," Bucky says earnestly, surprised. "You sure you wanna share? I don't know how many spots you still have off the grid after everything that's happened."

"It's no big deal. Fix up the roof while you're there and we'll call it square."

"Thank you," Bucky says, a smile breaking out on his face.

"Yes! Thank you." Steve smiles too.

**

"A farm is, I mean," Steve gestures, bewildered. "I've seen them on TV. Cows? Crops? Is that... a place...?"

"Human kids love big open spaces," Bucky explains. "They can run around and yell and climb on stuff and, y'know, be kids. Get dirty. Chase some chickens around. They'll really like it. Clint's really nice to offer."

"Okay," Steve says, like he doesn't understand it but he's willing to believe it.

"We've gone to Central Park, Stevie. You've seen kids runnin' around like maniacs."

Steve shrugs. "I guess I always assumed they hadn't been outside in a long time," he says, and scowls when Bucky works to hide his laughter.

**

"PAPA!" Rosie shouts, face pressed against the glass of the car.

Steve twists around in his seat. "What? What do you see?"

"TREES!" She exclaims. Jasper wriggles as far as his seat belt will allow, craning his head to see too.

"Told you," Bucky murmurs.

**

Clara doesn't care for most of it. She's interested by the animals until smell becomes too much, and while she's perfectly comfortable wearing all-human clothes for the day, she plants herself in an outdoor chair next to Pepper and takes a nap while the others run around. Pippin reemerges from a pile of straw with several bits clinging to his hair. Rosie manages to both find and capture a frog, which she brings to Steve to show off before being commended and encouraged to let him be free again. Jasper collects a very shiny piece of quartz and offers it to Pepper, signing  _for friends_  before running back the way he came and disappearing behind a barn.

"Wild animals," Steve says lovingly, and Bucky just smirks.


	28. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a weird little treat you might be interested in: over at Mixed Bag, which is where I put snippets and shorts and weird little prompt fills, [there's a short crossover between this story and Old Lullabies](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/8093094), and it's timed around now in Blue Scales. (Old Lullabies is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1792459), if you haven't read it.) It's kooky and definitely non-canon, but if you're into fluff, that's... pretty much all it is. So go check it out!

"Do you know what you're doing over there?"

"Yes," Steve lies, looking at the strap of Clara's overalls, then at the front panel. " _Oh,_ " he says, and twists it around the right way, over her shoulder and clipping it into the button. "Okay, you're all set. ... Why are these for children? They're so  _complicated_."

"Yeah, but they simplify some things." Bucky ruffles Clara's hair as she toddles back to the picnic bench to find some slices of cheese.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering verbally, Bucky gets up, following behind Clara and finally bending down to pick her up by the back strap of her overalls. She makes an indignant noise, flailing, until she realizes he's carrying her over to the snack plate and holding her above it. She considers her position a moment before deciding that this is fine. She reaches down and picks up a square of cheddar.

**

Sam and Bucky's crate of outdoor toys goes over well. Rosie is enamored with the huge rubber ball, and Steve knows it's going to be a difficult time explaining to her that she can't take it back to the Tower and play with it indoors because that would be  _guaranteed destruction_.

The small shovels and buckets mystify Steve until he watches Jasper working with Natasha to make little hills by the bed of the creek, adding leaves for decoration. (Jasper finds some caterpillars to live in his coliseum and is slightly offended when he finds that they keep trying to leave, but seems to get over it after some extra gentle handling from Natasha.)

Bucky and Steve reconvene by the lemonade. "Seems like it's going well. Where'd Pippin get to?"

"Ripping up grass behind the barn," Steve answers, pointing. "I know it sounds kind of destructive, but it's pretty typical. Seaweed by the coast, anything that grows on the beaches..."

Bucky blinks. "I was about to tell you the same thing about human kids. Did we just find another point of species overlap?"

"And it's pulling up plants?"

"Could be worse."

"PAPA," Rosie yells, right as she dashes and jumps into Steve's chest.

"Hi," Steve laughs, holding her up and spinning her. "Do you like it here?"

"Uh-huh."

"Will you go get your siblings for snack time?"

"Uh-huh."

Steve smiles and sets her down, watching her run off toward the creek. When Bucky slides an arm around his waist, Steve leans into him.

**

**

 _Don't want to go home yet_ , Jasper signs, and the others sign their agreement.

 _There's not enough beds here for everyone. This was just a day trip, remember?_ Bucky kneels down.  _If you're good we'll come here again real soon._

Clara pouts.  _Don't wanna go back to the Tower. The Tower's stupid._

Bucky and Steve share a look. "You can't ever say that in front of Uncle Tony, okay? Promise me."

**

**

Pippin grabs Darcy's sleeve, tottering on bare feet and pulling her toward the TV. There's an ocean documentary on.

"Farm," Pippin says, to Darcy's amusement.

"That's the ocean, little man. Farms are on land." She kneels down and looks from him to the screen, pointing when a whale comes up. "Did you ever see a whale at Uncle Clint's farm?"

 _Trip_ , he signs, and even when Jarvis translates Darcy doesn't get it. Pippin waves his hand at the screen to draw more attention to it. "Wan' go."

"Oh.  _Oh_. Uh." Darcy looks back at the screen. "Yeah, that's a place you could... I mean, I think so. I don't know. Gotta ask Daddy or Papa."

"Wan' go," Pippin says, more insistently now that he's found a phrase Darcy seems to understand. "Wan' go. Wan' go."

**

The problem is that even though they're not terribly verbal, Jarvis doesn't require a keyboard and responds to signing. Pippin, in what Bucky decides is a suspiciously clever move for someone his age, conducts a video search on  _big pool thing fish what Darcy said_ (which Jarvis edits ever so slightly) via signing and shows Clara some footage, who gets enthralled too. They find a 'zen' video of waves crashing on the beach and watch it, enthralled, before moving on to a video about squid.

 _Trip_ , Clara signs to Bucky, and points.

**

**

"We had an agreement," Pepper says in the other room, and Steve frowns, reaching out for Jasper's shoulder to prevent him from walking in on what can only be Tony getting told off.

"When I told Jarvis to buy it, I didn't realize it was quite so much, or I  _would_ have mentioned it."

"There's no way you thought it was under five hundred thousand!"

Jasper, in a rare moment of disobedience, squirms out of Steve's grip to scuttle around the corner and into the kitchen, to the refrigerator. Steve winces and follows after him, hoping he's not walking in on anything too intimate.

"I don't know how much walruses cost, Pepper, I'm not a marine biologist. With a minor in econom- oh, hi, Jasper." Tony watches as the boy tugs the fridge door open, leaning into the motion with all his tiny strength before crawling half into it to reach the sliced fruit. "Hi, Steve."

"Hi, sorry," Steve says, and makes his way to the fridge to try and help Jasper get in and out as fast as possible.

"No problem. Pepper and I were just talking about the seventeenth moon... thing."

Jasper sticks his head out of the fridge, a slice of cantaloupe already in his mouth. Steve laughs.

"Please tell me there's some slang I missed and you're not getting them walruses. Rosie would promise to walk them every day, but I know I'd get stuck doing it."

"A plus for the landlubber joke. Yes, but no. The New York Aquarium's been struggling for a few years and I decided to turn it around."

"Ak...warum?" Jasper repeats around the slice of cantaloupe.

Pepper takes a deep breath and smiles, kneeling down to ruffle his hair. "Yes. Remember when we rented the zoo for a day?"

Jasper thinks back, pulling the slice out of his mouth. It has a very small bite mark at the corner. "Giraffes," he answers decisively.

"Exactly. This is like a zoo for fish and other things that live in the water."

"Like in your picture book," Steve adds, looking over Jasper's head to Tony. Tony, for his part, is shrugging nonchalantly as if he diversifies his portfolio by buying up educational wildlife centers all the time. "Tony, are you sure?"

Tony's brows come together. "You said surprise gifts were only really for mates. Is it bad to tell him a few days in advance?"

"No, it's not," Steve waves that away and tries to sort it out. "Their seventeenth month is important, but you know you didn't have to... to do something like this."

"He knows," Pepper singsongs, using delicate fingertips to put Jasper's hair right as he nibbles on the edges of the melon in a careful pattern. "If he does something, it's because he wants to."

Jasper swallows his mouthful of food before looking at Pepper with a serious expression. "Giraffes," he says, and then signs  _swimming_  with a question.

"I don't think they can swim, no," Steve says. "And they definitely won't be at the aquarium. But there'll be lots of other great things."

Nodding, Jasper seems to accept this without too much disappointment. He seems more interested in his snack than on the idea that his uncle has more or less bought him a water park, which isn't uncommon for someone his age.

**

"You must have misunderstood," Bucky whispers gently.

"No," Steve stands firm. "He bought it. He owns it now. The way you'd own a house or a business. It's his."

Bucky blinks, then readjusts Clara on his shoulder. "That'd... be a really great stepping stone between the pools and a lake, right?"

" _Yes_ ," Steve says emphatically. "I think he knows that, but he just keeps going on about how he's going to keep ticket sales about the same and increase revenue by... targeted advertising?"

"He's such a fuckin' softie," Bucky murmurs appreciatively.

"Hey now."

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm not used to 'em being total sponges." Bucky leans his head back a little to check that Clara's still asleep. "God. An aquarium."

"I looked online. They have otters. Sea lions.  _Seals_." Steve thinks about it. "Most businesses have days off. If Tony ...  _owns_  it, doesn't that mean he can bend rules? Let us visit on a day when other people can't be there?" He starts gesturing. "I mean, it's not like... not like the fish and everything wouldn't still be there..."

Bucky's eyes widen. "No press, no mobs..."

_This will be so fucking great, I'm so excited._

"Hey! What'd you just say?"

_She's asleep. She can't see me sign._


	29. 1935

Bucky practices holding his breath in the tub - bending at the knees and sinking under the surface of the tepid water, eyes shut tight, like he needs to use his whole body to squeeze his mouth shut and keep his air in his lungs. He counts, loses count, and starts using the clock on the far wall to time himself.

**

**

Bucky was a good student anyway, but his library card is starting to fill up with things that have nothing to do with school work.  _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_. Encyclopedias on deep sea creatures. Scouting books that teach you how to tell time using the sun. (Steve looks at Bucky's watch and agrees that it's useful, but there's no way they can ever agree to meet at something like 'ten til seven' and have it actually work out.)

When he can, Bucky writes up science essays on underwater ecosystems, brings novels down to the shoreline and does his best not to get them wet, teaches himself about asthma because while he can't figure out exactly what makes Steve so tired sometimes, the books recommend holding him upright so he can get more air in his lungs, and that does work. And Steve sometimes nods off while Bucky holds him this way, and that's okay with Bucky. It's fine.

**

**

"Ngggh," Steve says reluctantly.

"Yeah?" Bucky tries it again.

"Not so hard. Just." Steve sighs and leans into the touch, tilting his head until Bucky's fingertips are stroking the spot where the back of his ear meets the side of his head. Bucky nudges the little droplets of water back and forth until they disappear entirely.

"Good?" Bucky knows it is, but he likes hearing Steve say so.

Steve just opens his eyes and smiles at him, scooting a little closer and closing some of the space between them. Bucky thinks about how easy it would be to lean down a little, across the sand, and close the rest of it. He feels his cheeks heat up.

"Tell me more stuff," Bucky says, trying to think about something else before he gets too excited.

"Mmm." Steve tucks a hand under his cheek and peeks up at Bucky's hand as if to make sure it's going to keep petting him. "Whaddaya wanna know?"

**

**

On certain special days, according to the moon and season, Steve brings him things. Sometimes they'll be things from old wrecks - Bucky uses one of the special cloths his mom keeps near the good silver to shine up the little coins with French writing on them, and keeps them tucked away in a satchel under his mattress. He only takes them out during the winter, when he's lonely and he's sure nobody else is in the house. The letters and faces are worn smooth from water and time and he traces the pads of his fingers over what ridges are left there.

One spring, Steve asks him what he wants for a gift. Bucky knows exactly what he wants but can't bring himself to ask for it. He asks for sea glass instead.

It doesn't much matter, because a few weeks later Steve kisses him without Bucky having to ask at all. It's chaste and over as quick as it happened, Steve's ears tilting back in nervousness and his tail curling up like he's trying to take up as little space as possible.

Bucky doesn't know how to say what he feels, so he grabs Steve's hand instead, holding it for the rest of the day until he has to run home for dinner.

**

**

Bucky isn't sure if he's a fairy. He looks at the other kids his age and his eyes are always drawn to the girls; fair or dark, tall or petite, he's not that particular about details. They seem to like him well enough - even more after his growth spurt, and more still once he figures out that compliments and little gifts go over real well with human women too. He holds their hands when they go to the pictures together, fixes their hair when the breeze musses it up, and is always stupidly shocked when they lean in to kiss him the first time. It's the only part he's not used to.

He's starving for it, though.

Susie Robertson nearly makes him pop when she says he can put a hand under her blouse. He traces the edge of her brassiere, heart hammering in his ribs, and when she realizes he's not pushing further she seems to be surprised, pleased maybe, kissing him harder and giving him a solid yes to another date next week. He goes home and barely makes it to the bathroom.

**

**

One evening he and Steve are lying curled up together and Bucky tries it. Steve likes to be kissed, to be held, but as soon as Bucky goes further he realizes Steve's not hot for it, just confused, and he has to back off.

Steve explains his side of it and Bucky's heart breaks a little, but he's damn sure not going to give Steve a hard time about it. If Steve gave  _him_ a hard time for wanting what he does, Bucky's pretty sure he would want to die.

**

**

It's a month or two later when Susie's hands start wandering on him. It's his chest, at first, his shoulders, little touches on his neck that make him shiver. Once she touches him between his legs, and while it's only for a second he's overwhelmed by how different it feels from his own touch. When he goes home that night his fingers are creeping under his bedclothes but he's not imagining her hands back on him. All he can think of is Steve's, and he feels kind of guilty about it.

**

**

"What're you acting funny for?"

Bucky shrugs blankly and leans back against the rock, continuing to roll up his pant legs. "Kinda tired, I guess. How's your ma doin'?"

"Better," Steve says, eyes narrowing suspiciously. When Bucky moves closer to the shore but not as close as usual, Steve makes a point of scooting closer and leaning in to inspect him. "You're too quiet."

In Bucky's mind, Steve is pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him. He breathes in deeply and looks at the sand between his toes. "Like I said. Kinda tired."

Steve tilts his head, then blinks several times. "The girl," he says, in revelation. "You saw her again a few nights ago, right? Susanne?"

"Yeah."

"...did she tell you to stop courting her?"

"She didn't dump me. She's fine." Bucky tries to think of something else to talk about, but he can tell from Steve's face it's too late.

"You don't sound like she's fine." Steve lays back on his elbows, looking at his face. His position makes his ribs stick out more, his hipbones that fade into scales jut out too. Bucky swallows. It didn't used to be this bad. This  _difficult_. "Does she want too much stuff?"

"Human girls don't... actually, yeah, some human girls  _do_  want guys to buy them everything under the sun," Bucky admits. He pretends to get really interested in a gull a few yards off. "Susie's not like that, though."

The silence stretches for a while. "If you feel bad because you ... I mean, I'm not upset you're courting someone else. It  _should_  be that way."

"I know you're not mad at me."

"Then do you feel bad for  _her?_  What's eating at you?"

"Just leave it alone. I brought sandwiches if you want one, do you-"

"Buck."

"Stevie, just leave it."

**

**

It's later that summer, near dusk, when Steve's fingers start to wander. They're hesitant, at first, and it occurs to Bucky that if things are like Steve said, he's got no idea how to do this, how to go about touching someone, or asking to do it. Bucky just holds as still as he can on his side with his elbow propping him up, his knees slightly bent, trying not to even breathe too loud because if he doesn't know what set this off, he certainly doesn't know what might make Steve decide to stop.

Steve's fingertips linger on the spot just below Bucky's rolled-up shirtsleeves, on the fine hairs on the skin, and he seems determined not to look at Bucky's face while he does this. Bucky wonders if Steve's as nervous as he is.

The touch moves to his shirt buttons, grazing over them, and when Steve's hand starts to fumble with the top one Bucky shakily reaches up and helps, opens it, just that one, just the one Steve wanted to open. Nothing else. Steve traces the bits of collarbone he can reach now, then touches the next button, just touches it. Bucky opens it for him. Steve nudges more fabric aside and seems to be annoyed that he can't see more yet. He slides his hand down Bucky's shirt, like he's waving the clothing away, and Bucky can feel hammering in his chest like something's trying to burst open as he does what Steve wants, opens it all up, untucks his shirt from his trousers before wondering if Steve didn't want him to.

Steve doesn't seem to care. His hair is dry enough to be a little fluffy, now, getting in his face enough that he has to tuck it behind his ear as he leans in to trace the different lines on Bucky's chest. There's no scales on Bucky, no strange ridges, but the ribs are the same, the nipples, and when Steve touches Bucky there, Bucky sucks in a confused and desperate breath and feels himself start to get hard. He flushes, wishing desperately that it would stop, but Steve doesn't seem to have noticed. Steve is stroking the soft skin he finds, touching every mole, every freckle, moving just an inch closer. Bucky closes his eyes and feels himself start to press against the fabric of his pants. He wishes he didn't need this. He doesn't know why Steve is giving it to him.

Steve's fingertips brush over his nipple again, and Bucky makes a soft sound that's barely more than a breath. Bucky's eyes snap open and he flinches back, like he's made a mistake, but Steve's eyes are wide and he's leaning forward and reaching further so he can do it again, on purpose,  _he's doing it on purpose_. His thumb pushes and strokes and then grazes again and that's when Bucky's mouth falls open a little, and he swallows down another sound, and he wants to ask what Steve's doing but he's terrified that he'll stop.

"Where else is good?"

Bucky sucks in more air, but it still doesn't feel like enough. "What?"

Steve is looking over his body. "I don't know... ...can I keep trying? Is this good?" His gaze lingers on Bucky's lap, like he's noticed the change there but he's not sure what to make of it.

"You can do whatever you want," Bucky says finally, making himself take steady breaths. He can feel his skin burning, like he'll roast up if he's left hanging for too long, but Steve's hand is already back, palm flat along his side and stroking up and down. Bucky realizes that Steve is doing what Bucky does for him. Steve's ears, his sides, the gentle touches that relax him. It relaxes Bucky too. He finally lets himself lay on his side, no longer scared that Steve will change his mind, panting a little but somehow suffering less now that he's not putting all his effort into hiding it.

"You're really soft."

"Oh." A long time ago, Bucky told Steve that he felt wet and smooth, and often a bit cool. "And warm?"

"Yeah. It's nice." Steve seems to be less scared now too. He moves in closer, lying down as well, left hand still petting Bucky while the right one drifts near his stomach. The backs of his knuckles drift over Bucky's abdomen and he shudders, reminded suddenly of nights alone touching himself while thinking of something a lot like this. His face flushes in arousal and not a little bit of shame. "Am I hurting you?"

"No." Bucky tries to think of how to ask for Steve to do more. "Please," he says finally, and feels the knuckles stutter over his side.

"Should... I touch it?"

"Only if you w-"

"Would you like it if I touched it?"

Bucky nods, face burning, looking at a fixed spot on Steve's hip where a paler blue scale is catching the light. He half expects Steve to tap out then and there, upon realizing what strange things he wants, but then Steve is scooting closer, using both hands to tug Bucky's trousers open and push them down. When Bucky's erection pushes through the open V, only barely kept in check by his underwear, Steve makes an interested sound and starts tugging again, pleased when Bucky lifts his hips up to help, leaving it all bunched up on his thighs. Bucky doesn't have time to get self-conscious about the hair or his size or whatever Steve could have been expecting, because something wet and strong - Steve's tail - has coiled loosely around his thighs, his ankles, and Steve's palm is ghosting over his cock light enough to drive him mad.

" _Please_ ," Bucky begs, and when he tips his head down it's into the crook of Steve's bony shoulder, he's so close, he smells like salt water and he can't tell if Steve is trembling too or it's just him.

"I feel like I'm gonna hurt you." Steve is applying gentle pressure to the flat of his cock, nuzzling vaguely at his temple, that little gesture he only does when he's feeling sweet, and Bucky whines and leans into both things.

"You're not, you're not." He fumbles blindly between them until his hand is wrapped around Steve's bicep. He grips it roughly. "Hold it. Th-that hard. I promise."

Bucky can feel the unsure twitch in Steve's tail but soon enough there are cool fingers wrapping around him, squeezing him, doing it again when he makes a sound and a little harder, again, when Bucky moans outright and arches toward Steve's body. Steve kisses his temple a few times as if to soothe him through whatever this is that sounds so much like he's hurting, and Bucky can't help himself, he spills into Steve's hand and grips his arm so hard he leaves a bruise.

**

**

After the second orgasm, Steve is giggling in amusement, making a show of spitting into his hand like Bucky demonstrated and stroking back and forth. Bucky is punch-drunk and loose, happy to let him experiment, shifting deeper into the sand and arching when he starts to get close again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are happiness. Happiness is word count. <3.


	30. 2016

"Okay, today is-" Steve stops and raises his voice. "Today is an  _important day_ , so pay attention. It's a big place, and you have to stay with a grownup at all times, okay? ... _okay?_ "

"Otay," Rosie says, realizing he wants a response and trying to make up for her siblings with volume.

"The rest of you?"

 _Yes,_  Jasper replies, taking only the briefest of moments to look away from the strange wonders that are his sneakers. Clara leans over and starts tugging at the laces, undoing them, and Jasper giggles quietly to himself as she does so.

"This is gonna be fun," Sam says. "Four car seats, four kids with wandering tendencies, a couple thousand square feet of dimly-lit maze for them to get lost in..."

"You volunteered," Bucky reminds him, kneeling down to tie Jasper's laces back up. "Clint, you're right, we should have gone with velcro."

"Vekrow," Rosie echoes.

"Yes, velcro. Apparently most kid shoes have those to keep devious siblings from tripping their brothers up all the time. Clara, I've got my eye on you."

Clara has the decency to look slightly guilty, but the expression is gone as soon as she realizes Rosie's shoes could be untied too.

**

**

There's a skeleton crew of hand-picked Stark employees running the aquarium that day, and they guide them through security, through the ticket area, and hand them little paper maps of the different exhibits. Jasper rolls his into a spyglass and sits on Sam's shoulders, examining everything, wriggling excitedly and almost to his peril when Sam starts moving closer to a large octopus sculpture that is suspended ten feet from the floor.

"Pools," Pippin remarks, surprised, and squirms in Natasha's arms to get a better look at the plexiglass wall in the distance where he can see shadows of movement.

Bucky looks around. "Everyone got their phones on?"

"Yes," the group chimes.

"Okay! Let's split up and see some fish."

"FISH," Rosie shouts.

**

Nat is happy to sit in the plexiglass tunnel with Pippin and look up at everything swimming above him. Pippin will point at something occasionally, making sure Natasha noticed it, smiling to himself and watching them drift with a strange sort of happiness. By the time they reconvene and swap gups, Pippin's in his funny sort of calm state, only signing, curling up in Sam's lap next in front of a new glass window for a few minutes before finally agreeing to go and 'meet' a few things in person. 

**

"Otter," Bucky says, pointing.

Clara puts her hand on the glass. "Kiddy."

"Otter," Bucky corrects gently. "They're furry, but they're not kitties."

"Kiddy," Clara says decisively, squirming in Bucky's grip to get closer to them.

**

"Wanna snack?" Sam offers.

Rosie nods, sliding off his lap and unzipping the cooler with clumsy toddler hands as soon as he sets it down. She takes out the tupperware container of grapes, handing it to him. He opens it and hands it back.

"Fankoo," she says dutifully, getting one grape in each hand and turning to push them against the the glass before he can stop her.

"Wait! No! No, honey, grapes aren't for seahorses."

**

Bucky's never seen a 'sea slug' before, but they turn out to be kind of pretty.

"Tree frog," Jasper says, finger tracing the shape of the black line curling over the neon blue of one slug.  _Looks like_ , he adds, to make sure Bucky understands he knows it isn't actually a frog. Bucky nods in acknowledgment.

**

Steve's not personally familiar with a lot of the species in the aquarium. Upon getting into the tanks himself, it seems like most things just assume that his size is a threat, and thus cluster away from him on the far sides of the tanks. The gups have much more luck making friends. Jasper does very well until he tries to hug some of the tropical fish, and for some reason Pippin is particularly enchanted with the eels and has to get scooped out with a net because he refuses to get out when called.

Rosie totters through the employee-only hallways, coming upon the entrance to the tank with the sharks.  _This one?_  She signs.

 _Not until you're older,_  Steve signs back, frowning in apology.

She scowls.  _The other flapping things were nice._

"Those were rays. These things have teeth. Stings can't hurt you, but teeth could hurt you."

_Their moms should teach them not to bite._

"It's not that simple," Steve says, just as a shout erupts from the other side of the aquarium. In a flash, he gestures for Rosie to stay where she is while he runs toward the yelling. It sounds like Clint, but as Steve is rounding the corner there's Bucky's voice, too, laughing uproariously. "What happened?"

Clara is sitting on the floor, still shifted to her tail and arms crossed and pouting. Clint is on the floor next to her, soaked to the bone and sporting several red welts on his bare arms. Steve looks to the water to figure out where they are - jellyfish.

"Oh my god," Bucky says, almost crying. "Clint. Merfolk are immune."

Clint looks like he's trying very, very hard not to curse in front of a small child. "What're you talking about?"

"To jellyfish stings," Bucky says, leaning against the wall for support. "She was fine in there. You didn't have to... oh my god. Don't look at me like that."

" _How was I supposed to know!?_ "

Rhodey jogs in, hand on his holster, but stops short when he sees the chaos in front of him. "Are we okay in here?"

"Clint thought he had to save Clara from the jellyfish," Steve says shortly, turning to give his daughter a sharp look. "You promised you'd stay with the otters."

"Preddy," she explains, pointing to the multicolored creatures in the tank.

**

(Clint unknowingly gets the last laugh, because after the unnecessary rescue attempt Steve likes him even more. Bucky quells an unnecessary jolt of possessiveness when Steve even goes so far as to pat Clint's back as they load up into the car.)

**

**

The gups never had much interest in stuffed animals before, but that's before Rhodey buys a medium-sized seal, otter, sea lion and shark. They are carried around the tower and have to be cleaned several times, because it is apparently hard to remember that they do not belong in actual water.


	31. 2016 - 1935

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [BLU DID MORE ART AND IT'S GREAT OMFG](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/116745908625/oh-my-god-im-so-proud-of-this-captions-will-tell)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ...*clears throat*
> 
> ... um. Life has gotten in the way of updates lately. I realize it's been a long time, so hopefully you guys enjoy this one. Thanks for being patient while I've been in a non-writing mood.

Steve does as he's asked and hypes up the 'big kid beds' that are coming soon. The gups seem to like the idea of getting new stuff to show how grown up they are... Steve has no particular opinion about when they should happen or what it means to push it too early or delay it.

"There's no equivalent?" Darcy asks over breakfast. "Like, how long they hold on to you when you're sleep? If you're underwater?"

"Ehh..." Steve tilts his hand side-to-side. "I mean, I guess it depends on the child. Some are wigglers. Some really like feeling... nestled, really safe, so they prefer finding a nice niche in a rock anyway until they're teenagers." His mouth slants. "I think that's why the cribs went over fine."

"Quit worryin'," Bucky says with his mouth full. "Jasper's ready to burst he's so excited. I think Rosie thinks she's graduating."

"She is," Darcy says. "To a big-girl bed."

"A big-gup bed," Jane suggests, not looking up from her tablet.

Darcy coos. "A  _big-gup bed!_ "

**

It takes some fussing on Steve's part, but once each of the four beds has its own corner, with two sides flush against the wall, he seems satisfied.

"Sam was right about the bedding," Bucky says with a grin.

"Letting them pick their own? Yeah, I think it'll help the transition." Steve's ears practically prick up as he hears, just a little before Bucky, tiny footsteps down the hall. "Ah, here we go."

"No," Rosie's saying quietly, about ten meters away, "we still gotta wait."

Someone must sign something, because then Jasper's saying, "Noooo."

Very small footsteps - Clara - come closer, pitter-pattering, until someone - Jasper - dives forward and stops her. "No," Rosie hisses from further back in the hallway.

Steve covers his face as Bucky tilts his head back, raising his voice, "Kids, are you out there?"

There's a long pause. "No," Clara finally calls out, and there is the sound of someone lightly smacking her.

**

The beds are very warmly received, but it's not until the next morning that Steve and Bucky realize that they didn't get any 'we can't sleep' visits because the four of them all piled into Rosie's bed.

It's fine for now, and Bucky takes a few pictures with his phone before waking them up from their midday nap, but it won't work forever. Bruce suggests four-poster beds and canopies for a more 'enclosed' feeling and that, plus overnight shipping, is a roaring success.

(Bucky's actually a little disappointed that Steve remembered overnight shipping existed and suggested it. It's not like the kids were going to outgrow sharing a twin bed in the next few weeks.)

**

**

Alternate Thursday afternoons and evenings are Darcy's "babysitting" time, and she is one of the most reliable in making sure her schedule is open for it. She usually teams up with Jane and watches movies and, to Steve's absolute delight, makes up kid-safe science experiments for them to try. Sometimes it's just soda and Mentos on the patio, and sometimes it's an entire baking adventure.

Tonight, Steve pulls his phone out of his pocket and laughs at a picture of cupcakes. The icing is piled on way too high and one of them has a plastic army man on top. Steve wonders at it.

Bucky leans over on the park bench, examining the photo. "Rosie," he determines. "She and Sam watch that cake-making show together. Sometimes they add designs to the top that aren't edible."

"That seems sort of silly," Steve says, hitting the reply button: 

_Steve Rogers: So much sugar!_

"Yeah," Bucky agrees. "It's kind of like... gift wrap, I guess."

_Jane Foster: They are splitting the green one. All the others are made especially for Tony, Sam, Bruce, Darcy, and me respectively. :)_

_Steve Rogers: A relief to know they'll sleep tonight after all._

"They're fine," Bucky says quietly, the amusement warm in his voice. "Pay attention to your best guy, huh?"

"Sorry." Steve blushes a little and clicks the power button on his phone, putting it back into his jacket pocket. "So are you going to let me in on the plans for the rest of the night?"

Bucky looks like he couldn't be more content with life. "No," he chirps. "You're at the park, Stevie. Enjoy it. Be in the now."

"It's a very nice park," Steve commends, looking around. It's actually a very  _small_  park, with very few features other than the benches and the view of the river. But the river's more than enough, and it's very quiet and peaceful.

"It's an okay park," Bucky says, and stretches his arms out so his left one falls across Steve's shoulders.

Steve looks at the river a while longer. "I think this isn't far from..." He trails off.

"Hm?"

"From where we used to... meet," he says, unsure and trying to think about the area from the opposite angle. It's not just the buildings that are mostly different, but the  _river_  has changed a lot, too, and between that and a lot of time spent away in Europe, Steve's mental map of the water here isn't what it used to be.

"You know what? I think it kinda is."

"It  _is!_ " Steve says, more confident now. "Because that creek is up that way, we passed it-"

"Newtown Creek," Bucky says, providing the 'human name' for it.

"Yeah, and the bridges couldn't have moved, and look, the angle of... isn't that the bridge they were always working on? They didn't finish it until sometime in...?"

"1940," Bucky finishes. "Not quite in time for the '39 Fair. People were pissed."

Steve nods and leans forward, looking at it. "I remember that. ... It's strange to see it this way. The same angle, when I saw it go up bit by bit from somewhere around here."

"We should try and find it," Bucky says suddenly, getting up.

"What?" Steve gets up too, but more to tug at Bucky's jacket. "I don't... I mean, you know this river, Buck. I doubt it'll be the romantic little spot we remember."

"A few big rocks, some good shrubbery to keep people from seeing..." Bucky's already sizing up the fence, leaning against it casually and waiting for the final person to be out of sight before he scales it.

" _Bucky!_ "

"...an inlet..."

Steve rolls his eyes and jumps up, mounting the fence and dropping down on the other side to see Bucky navigating down an unfamiliar, rocky expanse toward the water. There's brush further on, but Bucky seems to get through it easily enough, finally holding back a clump of branches so Steve can go first. Something's lit up ahead, and he smells - he smells food, just barely, and as he edges his way further in he realizes that the lights are... well, they're  _lights_ , strung up across a familiar jagged rock, around some brush that's been moved and arranged to make a clearing with just the smallest opening to the water, and the ground is covered in a large, heavy outdoor blanket he's never seen before. There's a small cooler in the corner.

Steve bites back a comment that they've stumbled onto someone's camp -  _Bucky did this_ , his mind supplies in something like shock, remembering all the movies of happy couples eating and drinking wine and looking up at the stars. He looks at the blanket, the food, the lights, then back to the huge rock. That's really it, that's... that's it.

"It's actually from a few meters to the south," Bucky confesses behind him, scooching past him and kneeling down by the cooler to get a bottle of beer. "Finally had to borrow one of Tony's suits to move it up here."

"You made this," Steve says, still unable to move.

"I  _improved_ it," Bucky corrects, grinning to himself and stretching out on the blanket. "A little trash collecting, a little hacking away at some bushes, it wasn't much." He eyes Steve sidelong, frowning. "Are you... okay?"

"I love you," Steve says quietly.

Bucky smiles. "I love you too. Now. Are you gonna come lay down with me, or do I have to have you back by eight?"

**

**

**

**

"One more chapter," Steve murmurs.

Bucky moves the library copy of  _The Hobbit_  out of the way so he can look down at his lap, where Steve's eyes are lidded in contentment.

"My arm's gettin' tired," Bucky confesses.

"So switch hands?"

Steve seems to realize he's acting a little needy, now, and makes a show of nuzzling back into Bucky's free hand, which is stroking his ear, to show he appreciates it. Bucky grins.

"One more," he says finally, putting the book down a moment so he can start holding it with his right and petting with his left. As he clears his throat to start the new chapter, Steve turns his head, briefly capturing Bucky's hand in his and pressing his mouth to it in a brief kiss. Bucky freezes. When he finally gets the guts to look down, Steve has already turned his head back, eyes closed again, nosing the fabric of his trousers. His cheeks have gone pink.

"You said merfolk don't kiss," Bucky says slowly.

"Humans don't usually read us stories, either." Steve wriggles a little until he's settled. "And... and hands don't count."

Bucky blinks.

"C'mon. Next chapter."


	32. 1943 - 2016

"We can go dancing now."

"Well, not  _right_  now." Steve tugs at Bucky's shoulder, encouraging him to lay back down on the cot. "Come on, the medic said you didn't need to get up today."

Bucky laughs and shakes his head, bare feet tangling with Steve's, rubbing back and forth. His eyes are drinking in every bit of Steve he can see. " _Lookit_ you."

"Shh," Steve says, laughing.

"You look ridiculous," Bucky whispers, grinning. There are still scuffs of dirt and muck on his cheeks, up and down his throat, but he looks bright, happy, exhausted but alight. "Like a damn sculpture in a museum. How much do you weigh?"

"I don't know," Steve says honestly. "Is it important?"

"Not really. Geez, Stevie. You did all this just to see me?"

"I didn't know if you'd come back." Steve swallows. "I wanted to help."

Bucky nods and goes quiet suddenly. "But when..."

"What?"

"You're big when you've got scales, too? Didn't you say that?"

"Yeah. Mass is... really hard to change back and forth, Erskine said."

Bucky's starting to frown. "How're you gonna explain it to your kin?"

"Quit worrying about that. How's your arms? They all healed up?" Steve reaches for one of Bucky's forearms, straightening it and looking at where the needle marks used to be. "Do they still hurt?"

"Nothin' hurts. I'm fine. Oh my god, you've-" Bucky's eyes go wide and his hand snakes between them to tug at Steve's trousers, peeking.

"Hey!"

" _Mary and Joseph!_ "

"Keep it down!" Steve swats at him, wriggling free and giving a cursory glare. "You can look at me every which way when we aren't surrounded by humans."

"Surrounded by  _other_  humans," Bucky corrects, eyes glinting in mischief. "Surrounded by  _people_. No need to get so species-specific when there's only humans in the world."

"Right, right, only humans." Steve laughs, swatting at Bucky's hand again when it makes a joking attempt to sneak back down again. "Speaking of humans, you have to help me figure out your courting. I thought I understood it but I don't."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"I got jumped like four times on the way here to get you."

" _Yeah_  you did,  _look_  atcha." Bucky cups Steve's pectoral and Steve just giggles, enjoying the curious touches now and leaning into them. "You know us leg types, we're all hormones. Did Erskine hand you a mirror before sendin' you off?"

"My jaw looks weird."

"It looks  _fine_." Bucky leans forward and nuzzles it. "More than fine."

"My toes look like yours."

" _Which means they look normal_. God, Stevie, if you're gonna 'pass' you gotta stop being so weird about knees and things."

"I'll keep it to myself." Steve wriggles a little, setting the bed sheet right when it starts to fall off to the side. "You're... you're really sure you're okay, though." It's a question.

Bucky's lips tug into a smile. "As long as I'm not hallucinating you, then yeah. I'll be alright."

**

**

**

**

After returning from a visit to Asgard, Jane calls Steve and Bucky to the common area and sits them down. Thor, for some reason, is hovering.

Jane draws herself up and gives Bucky a look as if she is very amused by what she is about to say.

"Namor's  _wife_ would like to extend an invitation to  _you_ , Bucky, to visit the south shores and bring your children." She's speaking as if quoting.

Steve sits up straighter, alarmed.

Thor cuts in. "There is no disrespect intended toward you, Captain Rogers. Simply concerns that with your dominant status, there may be difficulties-"

"They want to see the gups?" Steve asks sharply.

Jane nods slowly, raising a hand to tell him everything is okay. "The children are accepted as merfolk and thus are welcome to visit any time. Their human father is invited as well."

Bucky looks at Jane. She's clearly agreed to convey this information just as it was given to her, so he looks to Thor next, who explains.

"Not long after the merfolk settled in to their new home, trading began with the Asgardians at the shores. Pelts, food, technology. Amiable exchanges." One eyebrow raises, and Thor isn't even trying to contain his amusement. "When Namor permitted these activities, I doubt he expected that bonds would be forged."

When Bucky looks to Steve to see if he's at least happy that something has vexed Namor, he's disappointed. Steve's hackles are still up. "What does he want with my children?"

"Nothing, honestly." Jane leans in and grins. "It's his people. There are at least two different interspecies couples interested in the idea of starting families. And everyone knows that you and a Midgardian already pulled it off..." She gestures to Bucky. "...and you didn't even have the aid of Asgardian technology."

"So our gups are proof of concept?" Bucky's mouth forms a thin line. "If they already know about them, what do they need to see them for?"

"They wouldn't even be the same," Steve mutters. "Without Erskine's serum there's no reason to assume their children would be able to shift."

"They don't care about that," Jane explains. "If the kids end up being stuck in one body and not the other, the couples don't mind. Both sides are already moving their lives to the shorelines to be near each other."

"And Namor would accept these children into the pod?" Steve crosses his arms. "Half outsiders?"

Jane grins. "He doesn't have a choice."

"His niece has fallen for a very well-known Asgardian artisan," Thor stage-whispers, making Steve finally light up in slightly evil delight.

Bucky's smile gets toothy. "Asgardians make nice jewelry," he singsongs.

"Adria makes  _very_ nice jewelry," Jane confirms. "You might get to meet her."

"If you agree, of course," Thor tacks on.

**

 Jane pulls up a simulation which, as far as Bucky is concerned, could be written in Greek.

"Okay, as far as xenopheremones go... You and Namor should be able to coexist peacefully on the same planet, but that statement is dependent on the duration of time and the space between you and the other..."

"Alpha," Darcy supplies without looking up from her phone.

Jane rolls her eyes. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to call them that."

"You can visit Asgard. Don't stay for a month solid and give Namor a solid 50-mile radius and you should be fine." Darcy pops her gum.

Bucky looks to Steve. "You gonna be okay with me running the show at the shore?"

"I trust you," Steve says quietly.

**

Bucky's always thought the Asgardians could be a somewhat serious people - at least, the noble ones he's met - but it seems that every culture has some leeway for children. Pippin falls asleep under the table in the dining hall. Rosie will not stop asking the guards questions while they're on duty. Jasper, for reasons unknown, commandeers Bucky's jacket halfway through the 'land' talks and burrows into it, while Bucky is still wearing it, like he means to do a disappearing act.

"We're very grateful to you for coming here and bringing your family," Adria says. She turns out to be a towering woman with jet black hair and a sturdy choker made out of something like bronze. "Your circumstances do not perfectly mirror ours, but the health of your children brings us hope for our own future."

"I can run really fast," a voice underneath Bucky's jacket says, and Bucky scrubs at his face to hide an expression of amusement and embarrassment.

**

Rosie had enthusiastically volunteered to meet the merfolk first, but something about the pomp and circumstance of meeting them at the water's edge makes her nervous. Bucky himself is trying not to be intimidated by the slow rise of three dozen heads emerging from the ocean. He feels Rosie turn in his arms, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"You okay there, gup?"

"Mmmph," she says, unusually quiet.

"Don't have to go say hi if you don't want to."

She makes a nervous sound. Bucky pets her hair until she replies: "Donwanna."

Bucky swallows and nods, setting her down next to Jasper and going forward alone. Namor - he has to be Namor - glides forward, waiting until Bucky's knee deep in the shore to begin speaking.

"We appreciate your journey here, Sergeant Barnes."

 _'You exiled Steve and I hate you for it,'_  Bucky doesn't say, and instead gestures back at the children hiding behind the legs of the Asgardians. He decides to use one of Steve's tricks of cutting through the bullshit and getting down to brass tacks. "These are our children. Rosie, Jasper, Clara, and Pippin. I'm happy to say they were born perfectly healthy. Dr. Banner's simulations theorize that even without the serum, conception would be... possible, and." Bucky shrugs, running out of steam now, pulling out the Asgardian tablet the data was transferred to and handing it over. "Your people have a good shot at making the families they want."

Namor is nodding and handing the tablet off to someone behind him, but off to the side, a young mermaid is drifting forward, eyes locked on something on the shore. Namor notices her and his tail flicks to the side, very minutely, in what Bucky recognizes as embarrassment and hesitation.

This must be his niece. "They're still young," Bucky says. "I'll go see if any of them are... up to coming over."

He turns around and walks back up to the sand, noticing that Adria's smiling at the girl in the water. Bucky suppresses a knowing grin and kneels down instead, looking between the gups.

"Anybody want to meet some merfolk?"

Jasper is still busy hugging Rosie, who looks slightly overwhelmed. Clara looks uncertain, but Pippin just shrugs, plopping down on the ground and starting to wrestle his shoes off.


	33. 1943

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for [zetsubonna](http://zetsubonna.tumblr.com/).

Steve's body feels unreal - he barely needs to stop and rest, taking the nearest ocean current toward the northeast continent and ripping through the water almost too quickly. He feels like he's dreaming.

When he finally does slow down and find a place to sleep, he runs his fingertips over the broad expanse of his chest, over the unfamiliar colors on his scales. He has a small mirror in his bag, along with his human clothes, but he's afraid to look in it again. Looking at his reflection and seeing a stranger with his eyes is too much for him.

Steve tries to focus on how he'll find Bucky.

**

**

The ships become a more common sight, and they're all more or less angled toward the same spot off in the distance. Steve scouts the port from a safe location, decides it's far too crowded, and swims a few miles to the east. The beach is much more remote and he can't detect any smells of wood smoke or industry, no buildings anywhere, so he ignores the pounding in his chest and finds a shoal to climb up on.

The transformation doesn't hurt. It aches for a moment, like a limb being stretched to its limit and held there, and when Steve opens his eyes again he has to stare down at himself and try to quell the confused rise of bile in his stomach. His tail is gone and in its place are two strange limbs, alien and yet familiar - the strange ridges on his knees are like Bucky's, and so are the bumps of the ankles, the toes, pale and smooth but distinctly human. His genitals are soft but completely exposed between his thighs.

This form is Asgardian, technically, but Steve only knows Asgardians from stories. Warriors, strong people, in huge numbers and almost unmatched on the battlefield.

Vulnerable and alone on a rock, Steve feels much more like a human.

**

The clothes are awkward to get into, and he doesn't have shoes yet, but there was only so much Erskine could scavenge up for this mission and Steve has to be grateful for what he's got. (The external genitals are concealed now, which more of a relief than he'd care to admit. They're delicate as well as soft and Steve, more than ever, has no idea how half of all humans on earth walk around with these... things.)

Steve practices bending his knees up and flexing his toes. His feet don't seem to rotate as much as he thinks they should. His toes splay out unevenly, and he spends some time comparing that to how his fingers spread. It all looks off.

He gets to his feet awkwardly and reminds himself of Bucky's impressions of his little sisters' first steps. He wobbles, slips a few times, cuts himself on the jagged rocks that have washed up on the shoal, and indulges himself in the wonder of staring at the palm of his hand as the slim wound seals up. The water stings the wound until it's gone, which seems like something out of a saying he's heard Bucky say, but Steve can't quite remember it.

Steve makes himself get up again and continue practicing. The bottoms of his feet are soft but strong, and they tell him about how much weight he can put on each foot and when. Steve has used his hands and forearms to scramble up on to land before - that's normal - but his center of gravity is now three times as high and all his weight is on two spots. Tumbling is far more likely and far less dignified. Getting it all right takes a few hours.

Steve practices swimming with legs to get from the shoal to the shore. His skin prickles with the urge to just change back, but he makes himself concentrate on keeping his head above water like he has to do now, on kicking his legs and using his arms as he's seen Bucky do. It's exhausting and inefficient. Water gets in his mouth and tastes strange and bitter, making him cough. The thin clothes drag and pull on him, weighing him down. He tells himself he won't have to swim often when other people can see him.

He sits with his feet where the waves can lap at them, sorting through what's left in his bag. Bucky has explained pawn shops before and Steve knows that while different human countries don't all value things equally, gems and gold and silver are all safe bets. Erskine gave him nearly everything he had. It should be more than enough; Steve doesn't need anything fancy. He can get his own food and sleep a few minutes out from the shore if he needs to in his real... in his almost-normal form.

Italy isn't far.

**

**

The woman in the first shop asks him where he got all the necklaces and when he can't answer her, she gets furious. Steve is pretty sure she thinks he stole them from someone. She says that people are coming in and pretending to save their country but they're looting as they go. She says something about how she'll never get to see her neighbor again because she had to get on a train. It's incredibly confusing but Steve can't do anything but continue apologize, because the woman is shouting at him but she is also crying, and after a minute of it someone (her husband?) comes from another room and holds her gently and tells him it would be better if he left.

That night Steve eats and sleeps with his scales, resolving to make himself get back onto land for breakfast. He walked by a tavern on the way back to the shore and the smells coming from it were delicious. He wants to see if cooked food tastes different, maybe even better, with this body. He tries not to think about how the ocean water bites at his nose and throat now. He tries not to think about how even when he's in the water, when he's scaled and normal, he's still not really himself. How he never will be again.

**

**

The man behind the counter in the next town smiles very widely and is happy to see the necklaces. Steve sees the way his pupils change, the way his body moves in, and how it changes to fakely loosen and pull back when he starts talking about details that lessen the value of each piece.

It's unfamiliar, but Steve can put it together. The man is trying to pretend they're not worth much so he can profit more. Steve forces a smile and summons up his best mimicry of how Bucky acts when he's charming someone, tilting his head and leaning on one elbow, chin down so he can look up through his lashes a little. Not too much, though - this is gender-specific, and Steve needs to make sure he's not misinterpreted - and while it's a lot to do at once when none of it feels natural, the numbers start going up, the flaws in the gems suddenly aren't so drastic as the man thought a moment ago, and when Steve walks out with unfamiliar papers folded into a square, he's not sure if he charmed the man or intimidated him. He's not sure he cares.

He buys socks and his first pair of shoes and, at the shopkeeper's gentle insistence, two new pairs of pants and shirts. She gives him the underclothes for free, and he's not sure what he should do other than thank her. Her cheeks are pink.

The people in the tavern listen to his story of getting separated from his troop and one even buys him a drink, which Steve understands from some of Bucky's bar stories, and he thanks him for it. They say they haven't heard of the 107th, but some American troops had gone through recently and if he takes the road northwest, he might be able to catch up to them, and they might be able to get him in touch with the right people. He apologizes for struggling with the money when he has to leave (they seem to be used to it) and don't seem to notice him stumble on the step on the way out the door.

**

Bucky's description of farms hasn't quite prepared him for the huge expanse of plants, the almost-perfect rows, the smell of living earth and vegetables and, off in the distance, animals he doesn't recognize. The animal waste seems to have been left near the crops, and in the heat of the day with Steve's new senses, it's overwhelming. He waves to the man - a farmer? - by the house, and the man waves back. Steve smiles to himself, steps over a rock in his way, and waits until the man is well out of sight before speeding up his step. Bringing his knees up and bending his elbows as he's seen Bucky do to run is awkward and unwieldy, but finally, something clicks, and when he thinks 'faster' his legs just... know what to do. He tilts forward, he kicks against the dirt of the road, and for the first time in days something feels new and  _right_.

He runs for three hours before remembering he might need to stop.

**

He buys his second ever pair of shoes in the next town. The girl behind the counter looks at the soles of his old ones and asks how many years he's owned them.


	34. 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some upcoming chapters will be shorter than usual to accommodate the back-and-forth flow of the story.

"Jasper, take your shoes off before you get in the water, please."

Jasper sits down in the sand, working his shoes off with a toddler's lack of grace before realizing he has no designated grownup to hold on to them. He looks up at one of the Asgardian noblewomen in the crowd, assessing her, before quietly lining his shoes up near her feet and scampering down to where the waves are lapping up. Rosie is talking animatedly to Namor's niece, Callia, and before Bucky can listen in to make sure she's not saying anything inappropriate, Pippin is tugging on the hem of his shirt.

Bucky looks down at him. "Yeah, buddy?"

Pippin points at the cluster of merfolk. "The ladies don't wear shirts," he says flatly.

"No," Bucky agrees, mind racing. "Um, it's different here."

Clara tilts her head, mulling over this. "The Azzgarb ladies wear shirts."

"The Asgardian women walk," Callia replies. Her ear is twitching in the way Bucky's learned means she's amused. "Us merfolk swim wherever we go. Too much cloth slows us down."

Rosie seems distressed by this. "You never get to wear  _dresses!_ "

"We could if we wanted to," the woman says through a smile.

"You  _should_ ," Rosie informs her seriously. "You spin and they make a circle."

"You are very considerate for telling me this."

"You're welcome."

**

The merfolk are incredibly curious about the gups but also seem to be infinitely respectful of their personal space, which Bucky couldn't be more grateful for. The gups get to use their manners and show off to new grown-ups, and Jasper even works up the nerve to go up to a man with a truly impressive display of coral and orange fins and ask if he can see them closer. The man flexes and spreads them while explaining it would be a little imprudent for Jasper to touch. The way Jasper holds his hands behind his back to make himself remember makes some of the older women giggle.

The meeting at the shore was supposed to go until sundown, but there are enough friendships and lovers between the two groups that there's reason enough to stay longer. Some Asgardians drift off and return with glowing orbs to place in the water and on the sand, and some more come back with baskets of fruit and bread. When the stars are starting to emerge from the sky and Bucky spots an Asgardian woman cradling a merman in her lap at the shore, something in his heart twists.

"Why're you sad, Daddy?"

Bucky looks down at Clara. "I'm not sad." He laughs at her look of extreme distrust. "I'm  _emotional_ ," he corrects. "It was really hard for Steve and me when we first met."

Clara looks down at her slice of almost-apple, and then at the water. "Do you wish Papa was here?"

"No," Bucky admits. "Namor and Steve don't get along too well. You know Steve broke a rule."

"Papa  _always_  breaks rules," Clara says with an air of childish judgement.

"Yes, but," Bucky wades in a bit deeper to see what Pippin's doing - it appears he's having a spinning contest underwater with some very indulgent merfolk. "Don't pretend you don't sneak extra snacks when you think we don't see."

Clara tries to chew her bite of almost-apple with as much innocence as possible. Bucky laughs.

**

"So which one was yours?"

"What?" Steve turns and blinks at Rhodey, then back to the expansive map on the wall. The constellations twinkle slightly in the background, and the solar systems hover a few inches out from the wall like a stationary hologram. "Oh, you - at first I thought you meant Midgard, but you mean..." Steve raises his hand and points at a small blue planet. "There. It's not one of the nine realms. Just a smaller one."

Rhodey moves in closer to look at it, footsteps loud and echoing out the antechamber and into the main halls where the guards stand. He smiles. "It's almost as big as Earth," he comments. "Is... this an old map?"

"It's still physically there," Steve answers with a tight smile. "Just. Not habitable anymore."

Rhodey nods. "I've brought the mood down. Do you want to go see if they've got-"

"I've never been there," Steve interrupts, awkwardly.

Rhodey frowns.

"I mean, it was never mine. I was born on Earth. Coming here to visit with Thor was the first time I'd ever been on another planet." Steve looks away and pushes his hair back from his eyes. "Sorry, I think the proximity to the other pod is... I'm a little tense."

"All the more reason to see if they've got those roast boar appetizer things Thor always talks about," Rhodey says seriously, holding his shoulder. "And... hey, I'm sorry if I was out of line."

"Not at all." Steve scrubs at his face. "I really am just... a little out of sorts. Boar sounds great."

"Boar!" Rhodey whirls around with a triumphant fist in the air, stopping a bit short when he comes face to face with one of the Asgardian patrolmen. "God, talk about stonefaced... I know guys at Quantico more relaxed than this."

"They're jaded about the boar," Steve intones quietly with mock-seriousness. "They can have that boar any day they want. They don't  _appreciate_  it."

"They do  _not_ ," Rhodey agrees vehemently.

"Rhodey, you did cut the mead with water, right?"

"Of course!"

"How much, though?"

"It's not like I had a measuring cup, Steve, I can't tell you exactly how much."

"That's a balcony. Let's try this way for the food hall."

"Right. This way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are lifeblood. You can also hang out on [tumblr](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/) if you want.


	35. 1943

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for being so kind and patient, and thanks for your comments.

Steve stays perfectly still, legs crossed and hair getting brushed away from his eyes by the soft breeze. Slowly, the animal moves closer to the fence separating them. It seems bored but not unhappy. Its mouth is strange, and when it bends its head to gum at the grass, Steve watches with complete fascination. It's not a horse, but perhaps it's related to a horse... it lacks the nimbleness, the long mane and the long plume of a tail. This creature is so much more heavyset, and markings Steve has never seen before, but its huge black eyes are very reminiscent of-

"City boy?"

Steve's head whips around. "What?"

The old woman on the porch laughs and points over his shoulder to the pasture. "You stare like you've never seen cows before."

Steve replays the words in his head and finally nods. "I haven't," he confirms. She nods her head slowly, the cigarette at the corner of her lips lilting down. "Do they - he looks very calm."

"The males are bulls," she says kindly. "All of these are female." Steve's not sure what his expression is, but she laughs at it. "America must be such a strange place. Yes, they're usually calm like this... what's your lunch there?"

"Bread," Steve answers dutifully, and then rummages around in his pack for the other half. "And some fruit I picked up on the way here." He wonders if he should now ask her what she's planning on having, even though she doesn't have it yet.

"You're a soldier, then?"

"Yes," Steve says.

She nods again. "This road is many hours to the next town by foot... we have some salted pork we could spare you. Some beer, too. Come inside and eat at a real table. You can pay us back by moving some lumber before you go back on your way."

Something in Steve's chest swells.

"Does that sound alright?" The woman asks.

"Yes," Steve manages. "Thank you."

**

**

Steve learned a lot from discussions with Bucky about human culture, but it's different seeing everything up close. Filling in the little details.

The women are in charge of the meals, and they smile when you eat fast and compliment it and request seconds.

(Except in towns where the servings are lighter, in houses where there is no farmland just outside. There is not always enough food, and then you must eat slower but compliment just as much. Pretend to be full.)

There are a lot of overlapping groups, and different people have different opinions on all of them. America is part of the Allies, but not everyone likes America. (They took too long to help, one man in a bar says. The men next to him nod solemnly.) American troops are often assumed to be racist and ignorant, but Steve is met with warm smiles. Humans seem to like his face. Women's eyes linger on his arms and Steve worries not for the first time that Erskine made him disproportionate and that sharp-eyed people can spot the problems. Steve is as polite and unassuming as possible when he asks for directions and offers to help with odd jobs.

On the farms, he learns to chop wood and move bales of hay from laughing young boys. (They think he is from the city.) In the towns, he learns to move wooden crates, open them with a crowbar, and unpack the goods. (They think he is from the country.) He learns how to clear rubble.

He learns human burial rituals. His dirt-stained hands leave marks on the white sheets that go into the ground.

Steve can't stay by the ocean or even by rivers for most of his trip. The 107th was heading into Italy, a passing regiment says in low tones. They hand him a map and mark it and tell him to go to the local doctor and get his head examined. It's bad enough he was in a coma and fell behind, they say, but if he can't even remember his rank and number without pausing so long, there might be something "rattling around" in his skull.

Steve sleeps on cold wooden floors with spare blankets. Steve sleeps in a tree until he falls and momentarily bruises his arm - he must have moved in his sleep. He's not sure if that's normal. Sleeping is so strange when everything around you is making sound but your skin is untouched by it. There's a harsh gale one night in a field and Steve pulls his blanket off, his shirt, and breathes in deeply as the wind pushes and pulls at his skin. The flesh prickles strangely but it doesn't hurt. His muscles feel like they ache to be compressed on all sides by familiar water. When the downpour starts, Steve falls asleep.

He coughs and sputters when he wakes up, caked in mud, but he's smiling. He's fine by lunch. It was worth it. If the map is right, he'll be there soon.

**

**

Steve breaks up a fight outside a storefront between two drunks. Their breaths reek and they are cursing as they're pulled apart, beating their fists against Steve's arms, his shoulders, anything they can reach. A local man holds one of them by the wrists while Steve holds the other and talks him down. Steve tells him he is better than this, and that times are so hard right now, but that means it's even more important to set a good example. Not to give in to giving up.

The man quiets. Steve says he's going to let him go and when he does, the man just sits down, staring far away at nothing, trousers getting wet from the cobblestones, not caring. His eyes are tired and miserable. Steve wonders what Europe used to be like before all this happened.


	36. 2016

Steve knows before he's even completely awake that it's Clara's hand nudging his shoulder. She has a funny way of pushing on someone with one tiny hand like a cat kneading a blanket, calmly waiting until she has their attention.

"Wh', sweetie?"

"Bad dream," she reports calmly.

"Oh." Steve stretches his legs out, feet meeting the far armrest of the couch. He swings his legs until he's sitting so he can gather her up into his lap. "I'm sorry, honey, do you want some juice?"

Clara pushes on his chest like he's not completely awake yet, or not paying attention. " _You_  had a bad dream," she corrects.

Steve blinks, looking past the top of her head to the carpet, replaying the last few things that he can remember before waking up. He holds her a little tighter.

"I can," she says, looking unsure, and baps him away far enough so she can sign.  _I can reach the fridge._

Steve cants his head.  _Explain?_

 _Juice is in the fridge. I can reach._  She wobbles uncertainly to her feet, balancing on his thighs, and looks at his face like she's divining something from it. "Juice for you," she says decisively, and sits down before scooting off his lap and walking to the kitchen.

**

**

"Once," Tony says, in a rare moment of pure, unadulterated truth, after several drinks and a near-death experience courtesy an alien that stole faces, "I woke up in the shop and Jasper was crawling onto the work table. You would've thought the nightmare was stuck on my face. He kept swiping his little palms down my cheeks like I'd faceplanted in tar."

Natasha is the only one that looks him in the eye. "When'd you realize you'd been crying?"

Tony laughs, a little hollowly. "When I went upstairs to shave and saw myself in the mirror." 

Steve tilts his body just enough in the bar stool that the edge of his bicep brushes against Tony's arm. Tony doesn't say anything or react, just takes another sip and keeps looking down at his hands, but Steve knows that this body language is universal and that Tony understands.

**

**

Bucky explains that the otters spin in place to check for predators beneath them, but Pippin either isn’t listening or is determined to make it a game anyway. He spins, righting himself and looking at “Nell” expectantly, but she only circles him, diving down after a moment to dig up one of the treats on the pool floor.

“Mmmm _uh_ ,” Pippin huffs in frustration, frowning at her when she resurfaces with a bit of crab. “You were supposed to go next.”

Nell chomps down on the crab, circling him patiently and making a small cheeping sound.

Steve rubs his chin. "What's the name," he says, with practiced ease, "of the water dancing thing?"

Bucky's brows come together and he does a quick gestured version of  _don't understand_.

"I think it's in the Olympics. They all make shapes in the water, or-"

"Synchronized swimming," Bucky interrupts to provide.

Steve nods with mock seriousness and points to the aquarium tank.

"They'll never allow it. Specist bastards." Bucky affects a deep, world-weary sigh.

"You really think they'd tell Pippin he wasn't allowed?"

"I was thinking of Nell, actually, but you bring up a good-" Bucky cuts off as Steve doubles over in laughter, joining him before long.

**

**

Thor has an incredible ability to sleep in just about any condition - on the jet, once on a helicopter despite the incessant noise, and most recently, and very often, in front of nature documentaries, sprawled lengthwise on the couch, covered in small children.

Steve smiles. Thor's jacket has been discarded on the armrest and his head is propped up against it, chin tilted just far back enough to make room for Clara, who has nuzzled up to his neck and is curled tightly over the upper half of his chest. Thor's right arm is slung loosely over the gap between his hip and the back of the couch, where Jasper has burrowed, half under the blanket. Rosie is starfish-sprawled out on his lap. Pippin, in an odd move even for him, is snuggled up to a shin.

Steve fiddles with his phone to take a picture and send it to Jane.

_Steve: I see why you only assist Darcy with her babysitting nights. There must be Asgardian napping powers I've never heard about._

_Jane: I don't know how he does it either. Is Pippin sucking his thumb?_

_Steve: Yep!_

**

**

Bruce and Jane work together to put up three parallel timelines in a holograph - the milestone developments of humans, Asgardians, and merfolk, one above the other and barely overlapping. The merfolk timeline includes aquatic-specific tasks including swimming speeds and levels of dexterity, and no equivalent to a human child's milestone of holding a pencil. The Asgardian list includes very specific achievements using technology that the other two groups don't even have access to, and while the social markers are very similar to those of humans', the lifespan stretches out childhood and adolescence in a way that is difficult to account for.

"They're not behind by any of the charts," Bruce says after his third cup of coffee. "At least, not by anything we're capable of measuring. What even  _is_  this part?" He points to a footnote on one of the Asgardian milestone that has something to do with emotional maturity.

Jane rubs the bridge of her nose. "The woman Thor assigned to me was very... opaque. I think it's understanding the socially-accepted hierarchy of sentient beings over non-sentient beings."

"Gamma rays," Bruce mumbles. "I miss studying gamma rays. They made sense."

"We don't need to come up with some mathematical explanation for Steve, you know. We can just say their growth rate isn't dangerous and that they're very advanced for their ages."

"But we can't explain  _why_  it's happening."

"There are too many variables. One parent is a merman with Asgardian DNA. The other's a human with less elegantly-introduced Asgardian DNA. We can agree on a 45/45/10 split-"

"It's  _not_ , that's an  _incredible oversimplification_  of the influence of a very small amount of Asgardian RNA and DNA used to edit two very different species with-"

"Bruce, if we drown them in information, Steve at least will explode. The kids are healthy. The smartest thing we can do at this point is keep watching them and keep using their physical progress as a cue for the other markers. It's been working so far."

The silence stretches a while, and finally Bruce downs the rest of his coffee and leans back in his chair.

Jane waits.

"The thing about gamma rays," he says slowly, "is there was no  _emotional factor in it_. There were real-world applications down the road, sure, but nothing really personal."

"You care." Jane keeps her voice as gentle as possible.

"I don't want to miss anything."

"They're okay." She leans over and puts her hand on his shoulder. "They're also a little accelerated."

"More than a little."

"The sooner they hit human-six, the sooner Nat can live her dream of seeing Pippin take a karate class and beat the snot out of some other kids. Think positive."

Bruce snorts and eases into a rare smile.

**

**

The next time Thor babysits, Jane borrows some pajama pants from Sam and curls up in the armchair adjacent to the couch, nodding off. When she wakes up, Jasper is snoring softly against her collarbone and has graced her t-shirt with a small dark spot of sleep drool.


	37. 2016

The gups can be stubborn when they want someone's attention. Tony gets used to Skyping his business meetings with a 'junior assistant'.

"Hello, Ms. Rogers," Mr. Hazuka says politely as Clara wanders into frame, squirming her way up into Tony's lap.

Tony looks down at her and wraps an arm around her middle. "This is a sensitive business meeting," he says sternly. "So you can't buy any stocks based on information you hear us talk about, okay? No insider trading under my roof."

"Hi," she says to Mr. Hazuka, and curls up in amiable silence so they can catch up on the quarterlies.

**

Pippin is never particularly interested in whatever show Clint is watching. He generally burrows into an arm or sweater, whatever's available, not bothered that he can't see the screen.

Clint doesn't look away from the car chase as someone small and almost stealthy crawls over the back of the couch, making itself comfortable against his side.

"Don't think I don't know your bedtime's in fifteen minutes, buddy."

"No," Pippin lies calmly.

"Nice try."

**

**

Tony's gotten really, really good at bargaining with what he not-so-secretly calls 'The Fish Family' - Steve and Bucky agree to attend the Stark Industries Employee Day with the whole family on a set of explicit conditions.

Tony can have hired photographers, but any photos with the gups will be excluded from the internal newsletter. The employees will have their phones checked at the door, but they'll be given disposable digital cameras that autosync to the Stark cloud, where JARVIS will screen out any surreptitiously-taken photos of any celebrity children.

Rosie won't take "the facepaint station is for kids" for an answer - she tugs Bucky's sleeve until he takes his spot in the stool, giving the young woman with the palette and brushes a flat look.

"And what is Mr. Barnes getting today, miss?" Her nametag says 'Carrie'.

"Fish," Rosie says, no hesitation at all. Carrie laughs and flips through a small laminated book, finding a clown fish picture and pointing to it.

"How about this one? On his cheek?" She flashes Bucky an apologetic grin, but Bucky is already taking a deep breath, submitting himself to the inevitable.

"No. He should BE a fish." Rosie turns in place, looking for something, finally pointing to an eight-year-old girl with whiskers on her cheeks and a black triangle painted on the tip of her nose. "Like she's a cat."

" _Oh_ ," Carrie says, and tries ineffectually to wave away the hired photographer that is closing in on them. "Um, what color?"

Rosie holds out her hand and splays out her fingers, showing Carrie the palm as burgundy and ruby scales bloom into being. "Red."

Carrie's eyes widen and freeze, caught between wonder and her best attempt at professionalism. Bucky takes pity on her.

"Rosie, sweetheart, can you change your whole arm for Ms. Carrie?"

Rosie smiles and shifts it, spines and fins nudging out of the back of her forearm and stretching out. The webbing between her chubby fingers glistens as she leans forward to peek at the woman's paints palette.

"Daddy, she doesn't have the right color."

"I can make it."

"She can mix the colors, honey. Like Papa does with watercolors."

"Ohhhh." Unaware of the small crowd of HR and R&D employees gathering around the arts table, Rosie crawls up onto the table next to Carrie's chair so she can watch the process.

**

"Oh my god," Steve says, five minutes later when they reconvene at the snacks table.

"Rosie," Bucky says in what is probably unnecessary explanation. "Nat still got-"

"Oh my _god_ ," Steve repeats.

Bucky makes an aborted movement to rub at his cheek self-consciously, pretty sure that doing so would smudge the scale design and make him look even sillier. "Yeah, yeah. Apparently it washes off with soap and water. Does Nat still have Pip and-"

Steve is leaning in close, examining the gold-shimmer details at the edge of every triangle with intense interest.

"Stevie?"

"I mean, it's all wrong, of course, but..."

Bucky lowers his voice with a quirked brow. "Sweetheart?"

"It's just, I mean." Steve's pupils are slightly dilated. Bucky's caught on but he can't resist pressing further.

"Is something bothering you? I could go wash it off if you want."

"No! No. It's fine." Steve is still staring helplessly.

Clint pops up from behind one of the piñatas that hasn't been hung up yet. "Guys, I just got banned from the games table and I need you to help me find Tony so I can-- holy shit, Barnes, did Mardi Gras and a red snapper throw up on your face?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the short side, but the next flashback chapter's coming up very soon.


	38. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This mini-flashback was written for, and is dedicated to, [crownglass39](http://crownglass39.tumblr.com/): one of my most treasured cheerleaders on this and other stories, and someone who has just recently hatched their very own gup.

Bucky holds the first three to his chest, biting his lip behind the breathing mask, wanting to see more but also wanting to give Steve whatever space he needs - he’s hunched over and focusing on one long piece of membrane that’s still clinging to the last one’s face. Bucky squirms, arms shaking as he holds the three - his three - three of his four -

The fourth one’s gills expand and contract in a tiny breath.

Good. It can breathe. It’s breathing. Even as Steve is taking away what’s covering its face, it’s breathing, underwater, as the first three did. Bucky looks down in the dim light of the pool and stares at the first three. One has become upside down. The other is scrabbling a little, like it’s trying not to fall, not that it could…

Bucky shifts one arm so his wrist falls in the way of the small hand that’s opening and closing. After some fumbles, the hand closes around one black bracelet and Bucky exhales.

Steve is nudging his shoulder. Bucky looks up in a flash, but Steve’s expression is fine - with one hand around the fourth, and the other signing, he says,  _We go up, but keep them just below. Understand?_

Bucky can only nod, hands completely full. Steve nods back and gestures a quick  _like me_  as he rises slowly to the top, very slowly, and Bucky watches him for a while before kicking very gently off the bottom of the pool to do the same. The three in his arms don’t float away - they cling, awkwardly, to his bracelet, his fingers, his wrist. Bucky surfaces just enough that Steve can one-handedly tug his mask off, but not enough that the - that the babies, they’re  _babies_ , they’re all born now, they’re real -

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“You with me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I…” Bucky realizes he’s crying. “We got all four, Stevie.”

Steve’s smile is a little shaky. “I never thought…” He trails off for a moment, the mood unbroken until the smallest one - dark-haired - squirms and threatens to escape. Bucky curses under his breath and rearranges his loose grip.

“They’re  _healthy_ ,” Steve says quietly. Like it’s a complete miracle.

“You said we gotta hold ‘em above water,” Bucky says uncertainly. “For their lungs?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “Yeah, that’s next.” He looks like he’s not even concerned.

“You first.”

Steve nods and takes a moment to stroke the baby’s head. The thin strands are golden and floating in the water. Slowly, he lifts it, watching its mouth and gills - the gills expand a moment, then contract completely, and its mouth opens slightly to take in calm, full breaths as it stares up at Steve. Steve stares back at it, and Bucky realizes he’s crying now too. Steve holds the baby’s back with one hand and swipes at his eyes with the other, tilting the gup back gently and doing something to bend the tail as far as it will go. He leans in.

“Girl,” he says shakily, smiling. When he lets her go she floats like a cork, serene, a complete miracle. “Hand me the next one?”


	39. Chapter 39

The gups are starting to watch educational shows with more interest. Several of them are bilingual, and Bucky uses his passable French to pick up on some of the Spanish. Tony, who seems to have an internal Rolodex of conversational foreign language capabilities for business purposes, helps him along with the accent.

Bucky wonders why Tony puts up with the slow, repetitive nature of the tv shows with the gups until a late Saturday afternoon. Rosie has fallen asleep halfway through an episode. Tony, also on the couch, is reading through stock updates on a pop-up screen, scrolling through with his left hand. His right hand is solidly locked down - Rosie fell asleep with her cheek pressed against his leg, small hand clutched around his million dollar wristwatch.

"I can untangle you if you want," Bucky offers mildly. "You probably want that hand back, right?"

Tony doesn't even look up from the DOW. "Nice try embarrassing me. I'm enough of a man to admit that I sat down with her specifically for nap cuddles."

"And you can be productive at the same time. I should probably be impressed."

"It's not that different from how Thor roughhouses with all four of them and watches How It's Made at the same time."

"Does that count as productive?"

"I think that show is like 'How to Hit Rocks Together to Make Fire' for him, but yeah, I'd say it counts since it helps him figure out what's going on around here."

Bucky sidles closer, looking over his daughter. The purple-and-pink striped leggings he got her a few months ago only down to mid-calf now. She still insists on wearing them.

"What do we do when they start growing up?"

"They're already growing up, bucko. Don't you get CCed on Bruce's weekly metrics?"

"I mean really growing up." Bucky reaches down and moves a lock of curly hair away from her face. "I don't know what to do."

Tony's quiet for a while. "I'll invent something helpful," he offers finally. Bucky grins, although Tony's still turned to the screen.

**

They're seven when Steve suggests taking them on bi-weekly beach trips. They don't know how to swim against strong currents or in deep crevasses, and it's driving him a little insane.

"I know they don't need to do these things often," Steve reassures Bucky, embarrassed, "But it just. It bothers me that they don't know, and-"

"I'll come too."

Steve blinks. "What?"

Bucky shrugs. "I barely use that deep-dive suit Tony made me. I mean, unless you want to do this on your own?" He rubs the back of his head. "I wouldn't mind if that were-"

"-no, not at-"

"-wouldn't bother me-"

"-'d love to teach you too."

Bucky smiles. "You're blushing."

Steve shrugs, evasive. "I like when we get to swim together."

Closing in and nuzzling his cheek, Bucky wraps his arms around him. "We'll all swim as a family. It'll be good."

**

_Want light_ , Clara signs for the second time.

Steve stops and turns around. _Very dark,_ he agrees. _But it's important to learn to swim in the dark. Your eyes are good. You can do this._

_Land-Father's eyes are not good,_ Pippin points out.

Bucky rolls his eyes and gestures to the mask portion of his suit. _Don't use me as an excuse._

Rosie gestures forward insistently, wanting to continue.

_Also cold_ , Clara adds.

Jasper swims up from the bottom. _Found_ , he gestures one-handedly.

Bucky leans in. _What is that?_

Jasper shrugs human-style.

_Put it back?_   Clara suggests.

_No_ , Pippin counters, and swims closer. After a long inspection and a searching look to Jasper, he reports: _Shoe._

Steve tilts his head. _What?_

_Shoe_ , Pippin signs again, exaggeratedly slower.

_Useless_ , Rosie signs sadly.

_Put it back,_ Clara repeats.

_Trash_ , Jasper signs with his free hand. _I will take it up._

Steve shares a look with Bucky. _Are you going to carry it for the whole trip?_ But Jasper looks determined. _Fine. Loop it through your belt like I showed you._

Jasper begins fumbling with the rope running from waist to shoulder, untying it, looping the very old set of boot laces through the rope, and then tying it again.

_Gross_ , Clara signs to Bucky.

_Let him_ , Bucky signs, stern.

_No more trash please_ , Rosie insists. _Deep place? Ahead?_

_Crevasse,_ Steve signs again, slower, because it is a relatively new word. _Let's go._

**

**

They're nine. Steve and Natasha work together to teach them counter-kidnapping tactics. Natasha has formal training and Steve has vetoing power in case the training gets too intense.

"They might separate you," Natasha warns during the third session.

Jasper's eyes go wide, and a little watery. Natasha gives Steve a moment to step in, but it's true, and they should know about this beforehand. He steels himself and says nothing, only nodding to confirm.

"But we can use our powers to fight back, right?" Pippin shrugs. "Even in public?"

"Even in public," Steve confirms. "Your safety is much more important than your cover."

Pippin leans over and gently punches his taller brother's arm. "So I'll break out and find all of you."

"I'll break out too," Jasper insists.

Clara is fiddling with her new bracelet, bored. "Papa, you're going to come get us either way."

"Yes, but you have to be willing to fight until we get there, sweetheart."

"I know, I will." Clara looks over to Natasha. "I've been practicing the disengages. I'm good at them now."

Natasha raises an amused eyebrow a fraction of an inch, looking over to Steve. "She's good at them now," she echoes wryly.

**

**

None of the kidnapping attempts get them as far as into a van until they're ten. Late that night, far past bedtime, Tony has Jarvis replay the news footage on repeat - the reinforced vehicle speeding through interstate traffic, repeatedly fishtailing as an outward-facing dent in the rear right becomes increasingly bigger every five or six seconds.

"Not that one..." Pippin squints at the footage, sitting up on the couch leaning over his elevated leg cast. The van swerves wildly as something bashes the dent further, making it even larger. "No, that was good, my form was good on that one." The dent crumples out wider as the van driver gets the vehicle back under control. " _That_ one." He gestures to his foot. "Then I let Jasper do it."

Clara is seated primly in Natasha's lap, getting her hair brushed. "The metal was really weakened from Pippin's work, but Jasper still did a really good job kicking it more. When it it finally made a hole, it was pretty big."

"Excellent field report," Rhodey intones.

Bucky is spinning a van schematic around in the air, zeroing in the reinforced rear doors. "You did pick a pretty good spot," he confirms with a grin.

Rosie tilts her head back until it bumps Steve's chin, wriggling in his lap. "Natasha kept saying it would be _hard_ ," she tells him quietly, as if reporting a serious lie.

Steve shrugs. "Some kidnappers are. But these were easy, and you did a good job."

"They were _medium_ ," Jasper negotiates. "And we did a good job."

"You definitely get your choice of dinner tomorrow," Steve assures him.

Jasper sits up straighter and looks to Clara. "Will Rhodey stay? Can we all have hotdogs and burgers? Like on the Fourth of July?"

Rhodey laughs. "I can stay for that."

"We need to get the good pickles," Pippin reminds the room seriously.

"Captain Kick will get pickles," Sam promises.

"That is _not_ my name."

"Captain Pickles will get pickles," Sam edits.

Pippin glowers.

**

Thanks to everyone's careful work, and generous use of digital mask technology, the general public never gets a very good idea of what the four of them _really_ look like. Political cartoons and graffiti artists tend to miniaturize Bucky and Steve, adding spined ears, for Jasper and Pippin. Clara and Rosie are the same, but with softer features and longer eyelashes.

Fanart has been a constant for everyone in the Avengers, with most artists avoiding the kids out of a mixture of respect and complete inability to draw what they've never really seen. After the van incident, there are a lot of child versions of Bucky and Steve, sometimes with gills, sometimes with translucent scales. The "NOBODY PUTS BROOKLYN'S ALIEN SEA MONKEYS IN A VAN'" banner at the bottom of a particularly well-known digital sketch sounded mean to Steve at first, but Sam assures him the language was chosen to embrace how bizarre the situation is, not to make the statement disingenuous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sits up and shakes several inches of dust off*
> 
> hey guys what's up

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Blue Scale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599043) by [chaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya), [junedune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/junedune/pseuds/junedune)




End file.
